


Watch Him Go

by PrettyMessedUpSituation (MarcelinesNightosphere)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Asexual Character, Bisexual Castiel, Bisexual Dean, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Bottom Dean, Breathplay, Bunker Sex, Demon Dean Winchester, Depression, Edgeplay, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Human Castiel, Hurt/Comfort, Kink Big Bang, Knifeplay, M/M, Mark of Cain, Men of Letters Bunker, Panty Kink, Plot, Porn With Plot, Praise Kink, Safe Sane and Consensual, Sub Dean, Top Castiel, Violence, dom Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-28
Updated: 2015-02-28
Packaged: 2018-03-15 14:32:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3450620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarcelinesNightosphere/pseuds/PrettyMessedUpSituation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><img/><br/>On the heels of something that is leaving a trail of bodies, the hunt suddenly gets personal. Something is toying with the hunters, who are coming up empty handed. Taking a breather from the incessant research to clear their heads, Cas and Dean unwind in interesting ways - yet with the Mark of Cain quietly eating at Dean, his secrets are going to start to come out when the big bads they're looking for come out to play.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Long Day's Night

**Author's Note:**

> Lots of plot, but lots of sex. I've also posted a non-explicit version if you just want to read the story with only implied sex. Definite possibility that I'll be continuing with a second installment of this fic, no timeline sorted for it though. Please don't hit me.  
> Explicit art for this fic is by [uke-sama](www.uke-sama.tumblr.com) on [ tumblr](http://uke-samamakesart.tumblr.com/post/112282816183/title-watch-him-go-author)[/LJ](http://uke-sama-sensei.livejournal.com/5494.html).  
> Thanks to deancasheadcanons for being my beta, as well as coltsandquills, sweetasscas, puncasdemon and writingcalmsthemind for additional support.  
> Non-Explicit version [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3457703/chapters/7586918) if you or someone you know likes the story, but wants to avoid the sex.

Steps echoed throughout the building. Despite doing his best to be quiet, the sound of Dean’s dress shoes on the wet concrete made his gait less stealthy than he’d have liked. Rainwater dripped from the holes in the parts of the ceiling that remained of what he assumed had been some sort of factory, now empty and overgrown with ivy and morning glory as well as some other invasive plants. Most of the building had fallen down over decades. Large holes in the sides of the building left only a shell at the entrance, walls barely standing. Farther into the building the walls were more solid, the ceiling more complete.

Cas was in here somewhere.

The chill in the air was easily ignored with the heat from Dean’s rage washing over him.  He was sweating in his suit jacket, his anger getting the best of him. Whatever this was, it was toying with them and he’d had enough. For weeks, he, Sam, and Cas had been trying to catch this thing, and all they came up with was blood, bruises, and someone’s dead body left as a calling card that taunted their failure in yet again being one step behind. This time it was too close to home and more than infuriating. 

Dean heard the crunch of glass below his foot and paused, gritting his teeth and shutting his eyes before continuing, lifting his foot and letting the glass settle before stepping forward. The next room opened up into windows. Some windows were paned with fogged glass while others were simply broken in, wholly or partially missing. Glass littered the floor beneath them. The full moon shone into the gray space through the broken windows, casting shadows and swaths of light in the dark. In the center of the back portion of the open area that was still heavily shadowed, Cas sat in a chair. Dean could barely make anything out but his silhouette, but he knew it was him. He was unmoving but conscious, staring straight at Dean. He made no noise. Dean waited, surveying the room and letting his eyes adjust. He worried this could be a trap, some way to pull Dean out and for the monster to finally make its move. Cas was patient, not making a sound or a movement to acknowledge he’d even seen Dean arrive. They’d done the wrong thing and split up. Sam wasn’t even there. Dean hoped that he was where he was supposed to be – in the bunker, hitting the books with Tracy. Now he had to focus on getting Cas back there, too.

There was no sign of anything still there that he could tell. After five minutes of standing in the doorway waiting for something to show itself, he made his way toward Cas who was bound to the chair. He didn’t intend to be angry, but after seeing that Cas was relatively fine save a few cuts and bruises, his anxiety and worry turned to ire. He tucked his gun into its holster and loosened his tie, jaw flexing with tension beneath his beard. Cas looked at him apologetically, a strap in his mouth hindering any words to explain what happened. His legs were tied to the front legs of the chair, his arms behind his back, twisted in a way that looked extremely uncomfortable. Dean took out a knife from his shoe and cut free Cas’s feet, then his hands. Finally he took his finger and ran it along the inside of the strap cutting into Cas’s face as he pulled it away from his mouth, tugging it loose enough to pull it over his chin. Cas returned Dean’s stern face with a sly look, his tongue pressed against the back of his teeth and his mouth open, forcing himself not to smile. He wringed his right wrist with his left hand, rubbing at the indention on his skin, already bruising.

“It’s funny, usually this goes the other way around.”

Dean’s jaw clenched. “Really? You’re going to joke about this?”

“What other way is there to go about it, Dean? Let’s get out of here. We can talk in the car. I just want to get the hell out of this place.”

The two made their way to the Impala and started driving. Dean hit the back roads and flew down the wet road, rushing through puddles and artfully avoiding potholes. They arrived at the bunker in record time, not having said a word. Dean got out of the car and slammed the door, not even bothering to put Baby in the garage. He anticipated it wouldn’t be long before they were out again, finding another body. At least tonight it wasn’t Cas’s. This time.

 

He took his wet shoes off and carried them down the steps into the war room and set them on the floor next to Sam’s muddy boots from earlier in the day. He was sick of the fall rain and would be glad for a break if they could catch one. Tracy was slamming cabinet doors in the kitchen. He was sick of that, too. She’d come to them two weeks before, reluctant but desperate for their help. She’d tracked the demon that killed her family to the area, and since they were hunting something that could very well have something to do with it, Sam and Dean had no choice but to join forces. Even with the extra body and set of eyes, they still were coming up cold with each hunt. The agitation in the air was tangible, and it had been bottled up in close quarters for a little too long.

“What happened?” Sam asked.

Dean just walked past him without a word.

Cas took off his jacket and draped it over a chair and sat down next to him. “Give him a moment. He’s upset with me.”

“What happened to you?” Sam surveyed Cas’s wrists and the cuts on his face. “Cas, are you alright?”

“Yes. I was slammed into some glass and got restrained by what I assume was who we were after, but I’m alive.”

“If it was our guy, I don’t think you’d be here,” Sam said quietly, almost worried he would jinx them with his words.

 

Tracy sat in the floor of the kitchen, her arms resting on her knees, unsure of what to eat. There was barely any food since the last run they had made when she first arrived. After a week all the good stuff was eaten and they’d been too busy and desperate to finish this case to stop and have a meal, even a quick one. Lack of food and sleep was weighing on them all heavily. Now that she was overcome with hunger, she couldn’t find anything that sounded remotely appetizing, or would even put together a complete meal. Her options were down to a spoonful of peanut butter since they had no bread and making some basmati rice since they had no chicken or curry. That kind of dish would be too much to wish for. She needed something with flavor. Her mind wandered, thinking of Southern food, Thai, Italian. She didn’t hear Dean come in thanks to his socked feet, and was startled when he spoke.

“What’s your problem?”

“Shit, Dean,” she said, her hand pressed against her chest. “Tie a bell around your neck if you’re going to be slinking around like that. Fuck.”

“Again, what’s your problem?”

“Nothing. _Nothing_ is my problem. Nothing to eat, nothing coming up about the string of bodies, nothing coming up in research. _Nothing_ , Dean.” Tracy stood as she rattled off her complaints, crossing her arms defiantly in her oversized sweater.

Dean’s eyes narrowed. “Maybe if you actually worked with Sam instead of shunning him – especially since he’s the one who talked me into letting you stay this long – we’d get somewhere on the research front.”

Tracy rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I don’t see you working closely with someone responsible for your family’s death. It was hard enough for me to come looking for your help.”

“Stow your crap, Tracy,” Dean snapped. “I don’t give two shits if you forgive him, but move on. We’re not going to get anywhere if you’re brooding and side-eying him instead of hitting the books and finding the links to these cases.” Her arms fell to her sides, the sleeves of her sweater falling over her hands. Dean picked up on the vulnerability. They’d been going at it since she’d been there. Sometimes he forgot she was just hurting and needed closure, and how much pride she had to give up to come knocking at the Winchesters’ door. “How about we go get you some food?”

Tracy looked up at him, like a hopeful child. “Really?”

Dean sighed and scratched the back of his head, dreading going back out in the rain. The shake in Tracy’s voice made it impossible for him to complain about the weather.

“Yeah. What are you in the mood for?”

“Everything. _Anything_ ,” Tracy gushed.

“Go ask Sam what he wants, and start being nice. Me and you can go grab a big spread and we’ll all hit the books together until we come up with something. What do you say?”

“Okay.” Tracy’s coldness shifted into something that felt like optimism. She left the kitchen, passing Cas on her way to the library. Cas furrowed his brow in confusion as she passed.

“Was she…happy?” he asked.

Dean’s head lilted from side to side. “I promised to take her to get food from whatever places she wanted.”

Cas’s nose wrinkled as he squinted. “What’s the catch?”

“Why does there have to be a catch?” Dean asked, sounding offended. “I’m just being nice.”

“Bullshit.”

“She’s gotta play nice with Sam.”

“Ah, there it is.” Cas smiled. “You’re bribing her to be nice to your brother.”

“That’s not…it’s not about…whatever works at this point, okay?” Dean conceded. “I’m so tired of her bitchiness to Sam and the cabinets slamming.”

“Maybe we should call in some company for her.”

“Like who?”

“Charlie? Having another girl around might give her some comfort after being locked down here with us for so long.”

Dean contemplated the suggestion. “I don’t know if I want Charlie coming in on this. Not that I wouldn’t love to see her, but I don’t want her getting mixed up in it until we have it under control.”

Cas nodded. “Understandable. Can you do me a favor? First, be nice. Second, can you pick me up some Chinese food?”

“I’ll try on the first, but the second I can do.”

“Any effort is appreciated,” Cas added as Dean walked away.

 

They found a strip of shops with a tattoo parlor and a bar, a pizza place, and a Chinese take-out. A parking lot over was a burger joint. They started with the pizza place and put in their order, then went next door and ordered enough food to feed ten people.

While they waited for those orders to come up, they walked across the parking lot, stepping over the curb and carefully avoiding puddles. He’d been neck deep in graves, covered head to toe in mud and god knows what else, but getting water in his shoes when he was wearing a suit irked him. Either Tracy despised wet socks as much as he did, or she was making an effort not to piss him off. He was just grateful to make it across the pothole pocked pavement in the dark with dry feet. When they arrived inside, they ordered some food and decided to sit and have a burger each before returning to pick up the rest of their haul.

“This is so good,” Tracy moaned with her mouth full.

“I know,” Dean agreed. He talked to his burger before taking a bite. “Oh, sweetheart, it’s been too long.”

Tracy covered her mouth as she talked.  “You guys need to keep a better stocked pantry and fridge or something.”

“It’s been a weird couple of weeks,” Dean said, licking ketchup off his thumb. “Trust me, normally the kitchen is stocked.”

They finished their food in silence, eating quickly. Packing up the to-go bags for Cas and Sam, they made their way back across the black parking lot, having a more difficult time seeing the water as local business lights were going out. Tracy grabbed the pizzas and Dean went after the Chinese food. They met at the car, arms full of food that would last them through the next day and then some. After a little adjustment carefully loading it all into the Impala, the two headed back to the bunker, stealing fries out of one of the bags.

“So how did you guys come up with the disposable income?” Tracy asked, taking another handful of fries.

Dean waited until he finished chewing. “Men of Letters. Smart bastards. Before they disappeared, apparently they were into stocks. Sam found a box full of papers that turned out to be stock in some pretty great companies. We cashed in and now have a little less credit card fraud and pool hustling to do.”

“Wow. The Winchesters on the straight and narrow,” Tracy mooned. “Never thought I’d see the day. Don’t let this get out to other hunters. They’ll think you’re sitting rich and retiring.”

“I wish.”

Tracy scoffed. “No you don’t.”

Dean tilted his head in thought then nodded. “Okay, you’ve got me there. What have you got going?”

“Beg, borrow, and steal,” Tracy said with a smile, looking over at Dean. “What other way is there for a girl with no magic fraternity or a secret frat house?”

“Point taken.”

“You’re a kept man,” Tracy teased.

Dean’s foot slipped off the gas. “Okay, now you’re crossing the line.”

“No judgment, Winchester. You’ve been through hell. You deserve a little happy.”

“How about you extend some of that newfound optimism to my brother?” Dean asked, raising an eyebrow at her. Tracy’s smile faded. “He’s been through hell, too. And he’s the best guy to have fighting on your side. So suck it up and do a little forgive and forget and focus on killing the son of a bitch that actually did kill your family, alright?”

Tracy sunk down in her seat, crossing her arms. “Fine,” she mumbled.

 

The food was laid out on the table in no particular order and no one bothered with plates. The lid of an open pizza box served as the platter for Sam and Cas’s spring rolls and the dumping ground for fries, which wouldn’t survive as leftovers and needed to be consumed. Not much was eaten before they began working. It had been so long since they’d had an abundance of food it seemed everyone was in a silent agreement to hoard it in case it was a few days before they were out again. Dean and Tracy manned laptops and Cas and Sam had books, everyone buried in their own research. Tracy was looking up missing persons while Dean was checking for patterns, Sam and Cas were pouring over texts trying to determine if this was a demon, a pagan god, or something else entirely.

Dean cleared his throat. “We’ve had a body coming up every three days, right? Not necessarily from this area, some missing for months or years, some recent and local. No real pattern other than finding a fresh one every three days. Cas and I found one tonight before he disappeared. We have two days before another one will likely surface. We’ve got nothing to go on. We have no substantial clues. None of the victims are linked. The only thing they have in common is vicinity to us.”

“So you’re saying this is personal?” Sam asked.

“What else could it be? It’s not like we’re not on anyone’s good side.” His eyes widened as he stated the obvious. “I mean, it wouldn’t be shocking for some asshat demon to fuck with us.”

“And we’ve been either out there or staring at this stuff,” Tracy added, “pretty much without stop. I’m pissed. I want to get this shitbag. But the longer I look at these, the less any of it is making sense and the more frustrated I’m getting. I need a break. You guys need a break. We should call it.”

“What time is it?” Cas asked, shifting in his chair.

Sam looked at his watch and sighed. “Ten after midnight.”

“As much as I want to argue, I can’t,” Dean said, pushing back from the table. “Maybe we need a day. Just rest up, sleep in, hit the books again and maybe get ahead of this son of a bitch and find a breathing person instead of a body.”

“Agreed?” Sam asked, looking at Cas and Tracy.

Tracy huffed. “I’m not going to argue with sleep.”

Cas slipped a ribbon in between the pages of the ancient-looking tome he had been combing through and closed the book. “I, for one, need it. To be honest, all of us do.”

“Well, okay. I’ll get the leftovers put away and you guys go ahead and call it a night. My brain needs to shut off anyway before I even try to get some rest,” Sam said, standing and pushing his chair in.

“You sure?” Dean asked.

Sam nodded. “Yeah. Seriously. You guys had a rough night. I got this.”

Tracy helped Sam gather up all the Chinese leftovers and put them in the box trays she and Dean had carried them in on. Sam gave her a weird look and shifted his eyes to Dean who shrugged. He and Cas headed down the hall to his room to turn in for the night and get some much needed rest.

 


	2. Trust Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Venturing into BDSM territory here - the heaviest chapter for explicit sex scenes. The important thing I wanted to stress here is Safe, Sane, Consensual. Even in discovering new aspects of play that are new and to the tastes of either party, there is the presence of safe words and trust between the partners. We have an established, trusting relationship who understands the other person's likes and dislikes, and things they are willing to try or have consented to trying.  
> Please do not perform any of the actions in this chapter unless you are with another consenting adult and are well versed on the Safe, Sane, Consensual motto for BDSM as well as having complete trust and understanding of hard no's of your partner, safe words or gestures being included and very important.  
> If you have any questions or comments regarding any of the above or this chapter, or if you feel I've overstepped or depicted something incorrectly, you can message me at prettymessedupsituation@gmail.com or on tumblr.  
> Now that I've mom'd you, go forth and read the filth.

Dean closed the door behind him, locking it. He shifted his suit jacket off, not sure why he was still wearing it. He hung it up on a hanger on a hook behind the door and turned to Cas.

“Let me look at you,” he said, touching the cuts on his face, then taking his wrists in his hands to look over the abrasions, being gentle to avoid hurting the bruising. “How the hell did you get snatched up?”

Cas was embarrassed. “I was taken by surprise. What do you want me to say, Dean?”

“So you have no idea what it looked like, or what it was?”

“No.” Cas sighed. “I made a mistake.”

“It could have been any of us. Not like I haven’t been trussed up a time or two myself.”

Cas smirked. “Yes, you most certainly have,” he said, running his fingers on the underside of Dean’s tie, a fire flickering in his eyes as he began untying the knot. The entire dynamic of the room shifted. Cas lowered his voice and asked firmly, “Are you wearing them?”

Dean swallowed, his voice shaking. “No.”

Cas feigned a look of surprised disappointment, his mouth agape. “Dean.” He _tsked_.

“I was a little busy with the dead body and then the searching for you and all,” Dean whispered, speaking slowly.

Cas acknowledged that fact with a nod and steeled his eyes on Dean’s. “Tomorrow. You’ll wear them tomorrow, right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.” Cas’s eyes softened as he unbuttoned Dean’s shirt.

“I got it,” he said, taking over undressing himself. “Why don’t you start the shower?”

He gave Cas a chaste kiss on the lips and then a smile. Cas turned up one side of his mouth in a half grin and went into the bathroom.

Dean heard the water start running and the shower turn on. He stripped out of his clothes, folding the pants over the arm of the chair at his desk and tossing his shirt into the laundry basket. Dean looked down at the raised scar on his arm and rubbed his skin. The ache was a constant reminder of what he’d become and what he was trying to keep under the surface. The Mark and the Blade had transformed him into something he had never wanted to be, and maintaining control over the incessant desire for the Blade was exhausting him. It was difficult keeping his secret, that the cure Sam and Cas had done to save him didn’t work. Sure, they had brought out his humanity, but it didn’t make him any less a demon. They didn’t need to worry about that, though. Not yet. Not while he had it under control.

Seeing Cas like that had put him on edge. They had found the body of the twenty-something that was a local guy who recently went missing, and then took opposite ends of the building looking for any sort of clues as to how he’d gotten there or why. The next thing Dean knew Cas was gone. The thing that bothered Dean the most was how nonchalant Cas was about the whole ordeal. He’d been taken, tied up, and until that point every victim they’d found was dead. Instead, Cas made a bondage joke. Dean tried to shake that feeling he had in his gut when he realized he didn’t know where Cas was. He’d worried before, but now it was so much more. The thought of losing Cas again had a ring of finality to it. No more miracles, no more angel mojo – just Cas. His Cas. And he couldn’t bear the thought of losing him again. Banishing the thoughts from his mind, he walked naked across the room to the bathroom, ready to wash off the day.

Cas had the water turned all the way over to hot and the heat hit Dean’s face when he opened the shower. Cas’s skin was red from the scalding hot water. He was leaning his forehead against the cool tile wall, letting the water wash over him. Dean reached past Cas and turned the temperature to a comfortable warm. When Cas turned his head to look at Dean he said nothing, his face apologetic and dejected. Dean lathered his hands with soap and started rubbing Cas down, starting at his neck, moving over his shoulders, lathering him up and massaging his sore muscles. Cas flinched when Dean squeezed his right arm near his elbow.

“You okay?”

“It’s nothing. I’ll be fine.”

“You taking a day will be good. You need the rest.”

Cas shook his head. “I apologize. I made a mistake.”

“Enough,” Dean said, ending the conversation. Cas turned toward him, letting Dean soap up his chest and stomach.

The shower ran cold and they finished rinsing quickly, toweling off and climbing into bed. Dean slid in between the sheets and turned off his lamp, sliding his arm under Cas’s pillow so he could give him some sort of comfort without having Cas lie on his hurt arm. Cas settled in, accepting the gesture and closed his eyes, drifting off while Dean waited for him to relax, watching and worrying, the fingers of his free hand running through Cas’s hair, petting him to sleep.

 

Dean woke up, his arm stiff and aching. Cas was curled up into his chest, completely still. Dean winced as he tried to free his arm, his shoulder pained from multiple dislocations and other past injuries taking their toll. He slid out from under Cas, stretching his arm across his chest. He took his watch off the nightstand, surprised to see that it was 9 o’clock. The rare day of sleeping in was nice. Anything more than a solid four hours was bonus; eight was nearly unheard of. He rolled back over toward Cas, brushing his eyebrow with his thumb. He leaned in, placing soft kisses on Cas’s forehead, the cuts on his cheeks, and sleeping lips. Cas stirred, taking a breath in and reciprocated the last kiss. His lips parted as he started to wake, kissing Dean deeper with each slow lick. He lifted his leg, rubbing his inner thigh up Dean’s leg and hitched it over him, tilting his hips toward Dean, grinding deliberately against him.

“Good morning,” he said in between kisses.

“Morning,” Dean replied, smiling. “Are you feeling any better?”

“Right at this moment I’m just fine,” Cas said, stealing another kiss. His cock flexed against Dean’s and his stomach. “That reminds me,” he started, kissing him again, “are you going to wear them today?”

“Yes, sir.” Dean’s lips curled into a smile.

“Good. I’ll want your ass later.”

“Whatever you want.” Excitement filled his chest.

“You’re so good, Dean.” Cas kissed him deep, then moved down, kissing his neck and his chest.

As he made his way down Dean’s body, Dean rolled onto his back and stretched out his torso, savoring Cas’s mouth on his stomach. He rolled his hips up, Cas’s mouth on him before he could blink. He loved watching Cas suck his cock. No one ever handled it like he did. His mouth was big enough to handle Dean’s girth, something very few people ever even made an effort to do. Cas wasn’t afraid to give it his all, somehow managing Dean and working some magic with his tongue that drove Dean to slide back until he was practically sitting up against the headboard, his arm thrown back over it, pulling it toward him against his shoulders. Cas paused, sliding his middle finger into his mouth and out again. Dean took a deep breath when Cas started tracing his finger around and over his hole, teasing him. Cas pushed the pad of his finger against him, holding it there, massaging slowly while he returned to sucking Dean’s cock. Dean sucked in air when Cas’s finger pressed in, Cas’s tongue rounding the tip of his cock driving him to press his shoulders back into the headboard while relaxing his legs, drawing all the building tension into his arms. More pressure filled him and his eyelashes fluttered, a series of _oh fuck_ ’s starting in a hushed whisper and growing louder until his hand shot down to grab a handful of Cas’s messy hair, pulling it as he came, Cas swallowing him down and slowly sliding his fingers out of Dean, a throaty moan of relief rolling out of him. Cas kissed up Dean’s body, finally resting on Dean’s mouth, ending with a quick kiss.

“Well good morning,” Dean breathed. “What was that for?”

“Every time you look at me today,” Cas said, his eyes locking onto Dean’s, “I want you to think about me in you, fucking you, all the things I’m going to do to you.”

Dean double-blinked, his breath catching at the thought.

“Go put them on.”

Dean nodded, moving off the bed and toward his dresser. He opened the first drawer and turned to look at Cas, who was already in the bathroom. Returning to the drawer, he lifted his clothes and went to the bottom of the back, finding the pink satin panties adorned with black lace that he’d hidden away. He stepped into them, pulling them up and adjusting himself. Cas came out of the bathroom with a smile and walked over to Dean. He ran his fingers around the inside of the panties, pulling at the lace lightly.

“Let’s go eat some leftover pizza.”

Dean pulled on a pair of jeans, failing to stifle a smile and sighed happily at the sensation of the satin and lace against his skin and the denim sliding up over them. He felt himself starting to get hard, but took a deep breath and followed Cas out of the room, tugging a gray  t-shirt over his head.

 

Sam was in his room watching _Game of Thrones_ , and Tracy was using his laptop, scrolling through a clothing website, clicking little hearts. All was quiet and the tension that had filled the rooms of the bunker for weeks had dissipated somewhat, a nice change surely helped by a good night’s sleep. Dean and Cas warmed up their food and carried it over to the table where Tracy sat. She reached over and stole a piece of pizza without even looking up, clicking a heart next to a plaid button up.

“How’d you get Sam to let you use his laptop?” Dean asked.

“Asked politely,” Tracy answered quickly, taking a bite of pizza.

“Well that was generous of him.”

Tracy finished chewing and swallowed. “Yes it was. And I appreciate it greatly. I need to look at something pretty and not missing persons cases or dead bodies for a change.” She stopped and looked at Dean. “Other than your face, of course. Sorry if you felt slighted. And I’ll leave your friend out of it because he’s nice.”

“Thank you, Tracy,” Cas said.

“What about Sam? He’s a handsome devil,” Dean put in.

“Are you trying to get me to be bunk buddies with your brother, Winchester?”

“What?” Dean said, trying to act incredulous at the thought. “No! Wouldn’t think of it. You’re not his type.”

“Well, he’s not mine either,” Tracy added, eyebrow raised.

Dean turned to Cas with a playful grin. “Maybe we should bring Charlie in on this. Buff out some tension.”

“Dean, that’s rude,” Cas admonished.

Dean’s smile fell. He felt Cas’s comments of being nicer bearing down on him. “Sorry.”

“And who’s Charlie?” Tracy asked.

"Friend of ours. Like a little sister to me and Sam.”

“Oh, I’m ace,” Tracy said.

“Ace?” Dean asked.

“Yeah, asexual. Not interested in having sex.”

Dean choked and coughed. “You don’t like _sex_?”

“Nah. Been there, done that, not interested. Really could care less about all that stuff. Unless you have a diary I can read,” she said with a wink.

Cas tried to hold back a smile and Dean blushed. He stood and went to the fridge for a drink. “Can…can I get you anything?”

“Yes, please. Any beverage, preferably something that’s not water because I’m all tapped out.” Tracy smiled at herself but no one else seemed to notice, so she returned to scrolling.

“Cas?”

"Anything you bring me will be fine,” Cas answered. “Thank you, Dean.” He gave him a knowing smile and Dean shifted his stance, blushing. Cas’s nostrils flared holding back a laugh. He looked down and pulled together a plate of pizza and spring rolls.

“What was that about?” Tracy asked, stealing another slice of pizza.

“Nothing,” Dean said quickly. He returned with two Cokes and a beer for himself.

“Okay,” Tracy said, drawing out the word. “I don’t even want to know then. I’m just going to pretend to shop and probably take a nap and veg out watching some movies or something. Try to ignore the business we have to get down to tomorrow.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Cas said, turning his eyes to Dean. “I think taking a day to clear our heads was a good idea.”

Dean looked into Cas’s eyes and thought about him pulling aside his panties, his breath on his skin as he slowly –

“Dean, are you okay?” Cas asked.

He started and cleared his throat. “Yup. Fine.”

Tracy groaned. “Ugh, you two are so gross.”

“I know,” Dean said proudly. “As a warning, if any room in this bunker is rockin’, don’t come a’knockin’.”

Tracy’s face curled and she put down her pizza. “I don’t know how Sam puts up with you.”

“I don’t either,” he admitted. “What can I say? My brother’s a saint.” Tracy dropped her chin and raised her eyebrows. “Okay, he’s…he’s had his trouble but he’s a great guy. You have to admit that.”

Tracy sighed. “He is.” She packed up her pizza into a paper towel and closed the laptop, tucking it under her arm when she stood. “You two have a lovely day, and I will see you tomorrow morning, bright and early.”

Dean gave a wave as Tracy left the kitchen. He turned to Cas. “You have a whole day to do nothing. What’s first on your bucket list?”

Cas smirked and rubbed his hands on his jeans. “I was actually wanting to play this out longer, especially after that little daydream you went into a moment ago, but I don’t think I can.” The look in his eyes was mischievous and enticing.

"Really?” Dean asked.

“Really.”

“Let’s go, then.”

 

Dean was semi-erect before they even made it to his room. The material of the panties barely gave, giving no stretch as he grew. The moment Dean locked the door Cas was on him. He felt Cas’s breath on his neck, pressing against him the second the handle clicked, Dean’s face pushed up against the door. Cas’s hands drifted from the back of Dean’s thighs up and over his ass, hooking his thumbs into the back of Dean’s jeans, running them around to his front. He unbuttoned and carefully unzipped, sliding his hand into Dean’s pants. He let the backs of his curled fingers trace the lace and run down the satin fabric, feeling Dean straining beneath. Cas’s forehead rested in the center of Dean’s shoulder blades for a moment, exhaling in a slow, steady breath, preparing himself to speak.

“Turn around.”

Dean turned in the small space between them, his back against the door, looking down his nose at Cas. His face was serious and his heartbeat was picking up. Cas pulled Dean’s jeans down over his ass, letting them fall to the floor, never breaking eye contact. He bit his lip as he slid his fingers under the panties, ringing around the lace at the bottom of Dean’s hips.

“What to do, what to do,” Cas mumbled.

Dean looked as if he was seconds from begging. Cas wasn’t sure how much longer he could take it, but he wanted to prolong it, make Dean beg. He sunk down, scraping his fingers on the back of Dean’s thighs as he went, kneeling in front of him. He smiled at Dean’s thick cock riding up the front left side of the panties, his head peeking over the top. Cas grazed his teeth over Dean’s cock, the satin separating his mouth from Dean’s skin. He kissed him through the panties, letting his warm breath reflect back. Dean squirmed, rocking his hips forward, wishing Cas would just touch his skin. The touches through the panties gave him a rush of pleasure, but he needed Cas on him, skin to skin, however Cas would let him. Cas helped Dean step out of his jeans, then rose to be face to face with him. Cas pulled off Dean’s shirt, then his own. He watched Dean’s face for a time while his fingers ran over him, stroking in light brushes against the panties, watching the desire and impatience grow in Dean’s eyes, his lips thinning and then pouting, his breaths shallow. Finally, Cas gave him what he so desperately needed.

“On the bed.”

Dean climbed onto the bed on all fours, waiting for another instruction. Cas went to the nightstand and took out the lube. He moved behind him, palming Dean’s ass in his hands, rubbing his cheeks.

“These look so good on you. How do they feel? Nice?”

“Yes,” Dean mumbled, anticipation filling his voice.

“I’m sorry?”

“Yes, _sir_.”

Cas pushed Dean forward, rocking his ass up and moving him face down into the mattress. He massaged Dean’s ass, relaxing him. Cas leaned down and bit Dean’s cheek hard enough to leave an indentation. Dean grunted something into the mattress when Cas moved from his cheek to pressing his face onto the panties, sucking Dean’s balls then licking him through the satin. Cas’s tongue buried into Dean’s panties, mouthing him, teasing him. A slap stung Dean’s cheek, leaving a pink mark. Cas gripped his fingers into Dean’s skin as he backed up to Cas. Cas sat up, looking at Dean’s ass practically waving in the air. Dean knew he was supposed to be quiet, so this was his way of begging. Cas relished in it. He took a finger and squeezed lube onto it, warming it before running it down the inside of the satin lingerie covering Dean’s right cheek, and tugged them sharply to the side. The sound of a few ripped stitches went ignored as he teased Dean’s tight ass, rolling the pad of his finger around and over him, pushing in when Dean relaxed. He moved slowly, stretching him, adding another, stroking himself with lube as he moved his fingers in and out of Dean. He stopped moving and admired Dean’s gorgeous ass before giving it another stinging slap.

Cas moved the panties over even further, sidling up behind him. He placed the head of his cock on Dean and Dean started moving back, ready and willing to be fucked. Cas took Dean by the hips and pushed into him, his breath stuttering as his cock drove past Dean’s first tight ring of muscle, pausing and drawing his fingers along the inside of the panties bunched against Dean’s left cheek before pressing deeper. Dean pushed back against Cas, a whimper escaping him. Cas slowly laid Dean further forward, down onto the bed and Cas over him. Dean’s hips rocked back, his bowed legs outspread. Cas slid an arm under Dean, kissing then biting his neck as he drove into him.

Cas paused and pet Dean’s hair, whispering into his neck, “Do you want me to fuck you?”

“Yes, sir. Fuck me, _please_.”

“Hard?”

“However you want to, Cas, please just fuck me,” Dean breathed into the mattress.

Cas began a rhythmic thrusting, building faster and deeper. Dean bit his arm, whining as Cas’s cock pounded into him again and again. Cas’s arms encompassed Dean, who gripped onto him as he tried not to cry out. His face pressed against Cas’s arm, his beard wearing a raw spot on Cas’s skin from his silent moans and the friction of his face rebounding from Cas’s deep drives.

Cas whispered affirmations into Dean’s ear. “Your ass feels so good. You’re so good.” He squeezed him tight as he felt his climax building, his hips hitting hard against Dean’s ass. Dean buried his face deep into the mattress and moaned, crying out _oh fuck_ and _holy shit_ and _fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, Cas_ into the sheets that he gripped tight in his hand, twisting the linens as he felt orgasm coming. Dean moaned, his cock throbbing, strained and begging for release.

“Can I come? _Please_ , Cas. Can I come?” he pleaded in broken breaths.

“Dean,” Cas started, “of course you can come.” His breath was heavy against Dean’s neck. Cas ran his hand through Dean’s hair, tugging it back. Dean bore his teeth and his jaw flexed. Cas whispered praises into his ear. “You’re so good. You deserve to come. Don’t you think you deserve to come?”

Dean nodded, whining, his beard scratching at the raw spot on Cas’s arm.

“Say it.”

His words exploded out of his mouth. “Yes, yes I deserve to come.”

Cas thrust three times slow and deep as Dean came, kissing his neck and shoulders, backing out of him and sliding against Dean’s ass as he too reached climax. When Cas gained control of his body again, he massaged Dean’s shoulders and arms, working his way down to his pink-clad ass and quivering thighs, rubbing deep, relaxing his tight muscles. Dean moaned, his voice content. His body was fully relaxed and well fucked.

The sound of skin against skin rang out through the room when Cas slapped Dean’s ass and caught him off guard, his handprint welting up on him. Dean didn’t move, shocked Cas had slapped him that hard.

“Oh my god Dean, _I’m so sorry_ ,” Cas said trying not to laugh. “I swear I didn’t mean to hit you, at least not _that_ hard. Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine. Although I might need some ice. _Fuck_.”

“I’m so sorry. My hand was there, hovering, and I _had_ to slap it. My strength got away from me, I guess.”

Dean smiled. “Well, as a warning, your hipbones are in danger when I finally get a chance for retribution for this handprint on my ass. I might have to let my bite strength get away from me.”

“I’ll start the shower.” Cas stood, still smiling. His hand dragged across the bed absent-mindedly, keeping part of him as close to Dean as he could. Dean waited to get up until the shower had started and the scent of soap and heavy air from the heat started to roll out into the room. He stood and looked down at his cock gone soft, lolling, half confined in the stained and torn panties. Dean flicked the switch for the fan on when he entered the bathroom, trying to dissipate some of the steam.

“Why do you make it so hot?” he asked Cas, stepping into the shower.

Cas was in his spot again, forehead pressed against the tile, letting the heat surround him. His skin bright red. Dean turned it down again and pulled Cas to look at him.

“Cas? You here?”

Cas nodded and seemed to shake whatever it was out, stretching and turning back to Dean with a smile. He took a cloth and soaped it up. “Let me wash you.”

Dean nodded. He’d done it for Cas. He understood the need to take care of him. Cas started at Dean’s neck and shoulders, scrubbing his pectorals in circles, his solid middle, long stokes up and down his back. His ass was last. If anything could make Dean’s thick and sizeable cock pale in comparison, it was his ass. The perfect curvature, good width, the give – Cas couldn’t imagine one better. He soaped up Dean’s backside, happy to see him this way – so very satisfied – and to have the opportunity to treat him like this. Dean thought of himself so poorly that he needed and deserved sweetness and tender care. Cas was willing to give him all of that and more.

 

* * *

 

Leaning his head on Cas’s shoulder, Dean ate popcorn out of the bowl sitting in between them, feeling comforted by the quiet and what felt like some kind of normalcy. They watched _McLintock!_ on a laptop with the lights off. Dean admired the Duke and fawned over Maureen O’Hara, lost in the movie and not giving the outside world a thought. Cas had casually begun swirling his long middle finger around Dean’s neck then up into his hair and back again, enjoying the small touches. Dean leaned his head closer to Cas, exposing his neck for Cas’s fingers to roam, enticing him with only the curve of his throat. Cas swallowed, moving his fingers across Dean’s skin, scratching at his beard. Dean rolled his head back further, looking at Cas. He refused to pucker his lips at him but hoped he got the message with the look in his eyes. Cas smiled and caressed his cheek, leaning down to kiss Dean, but not touching his lips. He hovered, letting Dean’s scruff scratch his cheeks and lips as he grazed Dean’s face with his breath, building Dean’s desire, his need to be touched. Cas finally brushed his lips to Dean’s, gentle and slow. The sound of a zipper being opened broke Cas’s concentration, but he returned with another quiet kiss. His tongue licked into Dean’s mouth, shallow and slow. A low moan of satisfaction spilled from Dean, muffled by Cas’s mouth on his. Cas looked down to see Dean’s cock out of his jeans being stroked in slow and deliberate movements. Cas’s mouth watered at the sight of it. He looked back up at Dean biting his lip, getting off on Cas’s reaction to his size every time.

“Why do you look at me like that?” Dean asked in wispy breaths, stroking himself.

“How could I not? Look at you, Dean,” Cas said, looking at his eyes, running his fingers across his cheekbones then his thumb over Dean’s lips. “There isn’t a thing about you,” he continued, his eyes moving back down to Dean’s hard cock, “not one thing that isn’t worth looking at again and again.”

“ _Fuck_ , Cas, I want your mouth on me.” The words rushed out of Dean before he could try to stop them.

“I’ll make you a deal,” Cas said, rubbing a hand across Dean’s stomach, “you get what you want here, and then we move into another room where we both get what we want.”

“Yes…yes, sir.”

Dean’s words faltered as his mind drifted to what the other room had to hold. He watched as Cas’s head dipped down, his hand replacing Dean’s. His bottom lip brushed against the ridge around his head, his breath warming Dean’s tight skin. He enveloped the head of Dean’s cock in his mouth, a light suck ending with a kiss. He savored the taste of Dean’s skin, rolling his lips over and back until a faint saltiness touched his tongue. His hand gripped around the base of Dean’s cock, working up a rhythm slow and smooth, bringing Dean to roll his hips forward. Cas nipped the inside of Dean’s thigh, making him jump and then sink harder into the movement with a pleasured murmur vibrating in his throat. He looked down to see Cas taking as much of him in his mouth as he could, eliciting a shiver through his body and making his cock pulse in expectation. Cas’s lips moved down to meet his hand, sucking and bobbing on Dean’s cock with a delicious voracity. Dean’s forehead beaded with sweat as he tried not to come, letting Cas go for as long as he could. His mouth was a thing of beauty, and Dean wasn’t going to interrupt unless he just could not physically take it any longer. When Cas’s tongue started teasing in the little bit of space he had, Dean nearly bolted straight up in the bed, breaking his silence with a drawn out _oh fuck_ that made Cas only work harder, enjoying Dean’s pleasure. Dean flattened himself out on the bed, covering his face in his hands as he continued moaning _oh fuck_ over and over until his words caught in his throat as he came, unable to make a noise as Cas swallowed him down, his body quivering when Cas licked his cock clean.

“When your blood returns to your head,” Cas said as he worked his way up Dean, kissing his middle, “you might want to get some pants on and follow me.”

Dean exhaled, not sure if he could handle anything else. But just the curiosity of what Cas had in store got him up out of bed, fishing for a pair of jeans to throw on as Cas started to leave the room. Cas smiled as he watched Dean struggle to get pants on so he could follow him, his legs shaking like a colt trying to gain its footing. They padded through the bunker in bare feet and jeans, Cas leading him through the maze of hallways until they were on the opposite end of anywhere Sam and Tracy would think to go. Cas opened up a wall to one of the secret storage rooms and pulled the string from the light bulb in the middle of the room. He walked back behind Dean as he made his way to the center of the room and closed the doors, locking them inside.

“Well this is nice and cozy,” Dean said, looking at the bareness of the room adorned with chains and ropes and a scratched up old devil’s trap on the floor.

“Do you require plush accommodations?” Cas teased.

“ _Please_ ,” Dean scoffed.

Cas stepped carefully across the floor in his bare feet toward Dean in a way that made the humor fall from his face and his stomach tighten. The switch inside of Cas was clear and immediate. The air changed the instant his intent was set, and there was no way for Dean to mistake it. His demeanor made Dean stiffen, his hands behind his back and head hanging down, waiting.

“Undress and get on your knees, please.”

Despite the sweetness of his words, there was a command given that Dean would obey. He removed his pants and folded them, placing them on a shelf along the wall. Carefully, Dean dropped one knee at a time in the center of the devil’s trap, his head down.

“Words?”

“Purgatory and Perdition.”

“Raise your hands above your head.”

Dean complied. He lifted his arms, his hands balled into fists and faced each other. The sound of chains echoed in the room. Cold metal handcuffs closed around his wrists, the chain looping in between the two, stringing Dean up to the hook hanging above the center of the trap. Cas walked around him in a circle, stopping when he was in front of Dean, his hips squared to Dean’s shoulders. He lifted his shirt and Dean caught sight of his hipbones and the handle of a knife. The former made him hard, the latter made his heart skip a beat.

“You know I would never hurt you. Do you trust me?”

“I trust you.”

“Don’t move.”

Cas took out the knife, running the dull back edge of the blade against Dean’s throat, flipping it on its edge, tracing his jaw gently, barely touching Dean’s skin. He would never cut him, but the sensation of the cold steel on his skin did something for Dean. Cas knew what Dean liked and would do anything to please him, especially when it was so gratifying for them both. He couldn’t help but love the look Dean had in his eyes, a look of utter defiance and some kind of victory. He took sharp breaths through his nose as the knife dragged along the underside of his chin. Cas thought he saw something eerie in Dean’s eyes for a second, but he blinked and it was gone. Shaking the momentary interruption of his thoughts away, Cas leaned down and crossed the knife on Dean’s throat.

“I’m going to fuck your mouth, and you aren’t going to move or make a sound. Understood?” Dean did as he was told. Cas pulled out his cock and tapped the underside of Dean’s chin with the knife. “Open.” Dean dropped his jaw and Cas circled the tip of his cock around Dean’s lips. He moved his head in and around Dean’s mouth, feeling Dean begin to salivate, longing to suck Cas’s cock. But that wasn’t the game.

Dean’s hands twisted at the handcuffs. He was straining, trying not to move, not wanting to be punished. Cas rarely punished him, but he didn’t want to ever push him too hard, to see that cold twinge of absent domination in Cas’s eyes. He’d much rather see the in-control Cas dominating him. And if keeping still is what he had to do, he’d do it as best as he could.

Cas moved closer to Dean, snatching him by the hair. He watched Dean’s eyes turn to fire before shoving his face down onto his cock, flipping the blade to the dull backside and pushing it against Dean’s throat as he fucked Dean’s mouth. Dean hung by his wrists, Cas using the short bit of Dean’s hair he could grasp as a handle, shoving Dean’s mouth over his cock, his hips pounding into Dean’s face. He felt Dean gag and slowed, not going as deep. Dean’s mouth closed tighter around Cas’s cock and his tongue started to work. Cas shoved the knife harder against his throat as warning, which only made Dean moan.

“Oh, Dean, you are going to get yourself into trouble.” Cas pulled his cock out of Dean’s mouth, Dean sucking it as he withdrew, flicking his tongue on the tip. Cas shook his head. His voice was terse. “Get off your knees. Stand up.”

Dean smiled when Cas couldn’t see him. He couldn’t help but like him a little upset with him. He wasn’t ready to punish him. Dean hadn’t disobeyed to that point. He braced himself on his knee and stood up, pulling on the chain hooked to the ceiling, using it to get himself upright. Now that he was standing, he had a little slack in the chain.

Cas walked around Dean to approach him from behind. “Legs shoulder width apart.” Dean readily complied, standing with his back straight. He ran the blade across Dean’s shoulders and down his spine, Dean steeling himself not to move against the chill of the sharp metal.

“Absolutely no moving, do you understand? Be completely still.”

Cas set the knife down, kneeling behind Dean, dragging his teeth along the back of his thighs, ending at the clef of Dean’s ass, punctuating each trip up a leg with a slow, deep bite. To his credit, Dean barely flinched. His breathing was deeper, more concentrated, but he never moved. Cas took Dean’s ass in his hands, massaging and relaxing him, taking care to be vigilant of the sting he left on him earlier. Cas rubbed the sore spot gingerly then grasped his cheeks in his hands, spreading them apart. His thumb slid down, running over Dean’s hole.

“You are just amazing,” Cas said. His blew an exhale against Dean’s skin as he moved his face closer, his thumb pressed against Dean. His tongue licked just above where his thumb indented and he felt Dean twitch in anticipation. Letting his saliva run down, he rolled the wet pad of his thumb and started with rhythmic flicks of his tongue.

Dean gripped harder on the chains, using that desperate act to replace the squirming and moans he had to contain. His teeth clenched while he relaxed the rest of him, his jaw flexing as he tried to focus on breathing. Cas’s tongue tortured him. His thumb moved lower and his tongue took over, the flicks turning to lavish licks. Cas’s tongue swirled then went in deep. Cas’s thumb pushed in ever so slightly, flicking the tip of his tongue against Dean’s opening. Dean’s legs shook for a second but he stabilized himself quickly. He let himself relax again, leaning slightly forward, giving more of his ass to Cas.

Cas swiped his middle finger in his mouth, slicking it up with his spit. He pushed his finger slowly into Dean, taking note of how he straightened up but didn’t make a noise.

“That’s good,” Cas said, circling his finger inside of him, barely moving at first. When Dean’s legs started to shake again, barely able to control himself, Cas removed his finger and replaced it with his tongue.

Dean’s breath caught in his chest. He wanted to just bend over and fuck back onto Cas. He didn’t know how long Cas was going to keep this up, but Dean’s cock was straining. Cas lapped at his ass, stopping to tease him with quick touches of his tongue every few licks. He pulled down noiselessly on the chains, his hands starting to sweat. Cas laid kisses on Dean’s cheeks and rubbed them gently.

“You’re so good, Dean. You didn’t make any noise. I’m so proud of you,” Cas said as he stood. He took the chains off the hook and moved in front of Dean, pulling a key from his pocket. He unlocked the handcuffs. “Hands behind your back.” Dean did as he was told and Cas moved behind him again, locking the cuffs around Dean’s wrists so they rested on his lower back.

“On your knees,” Cas commanded. Dean dropped a knee at a time again, beads of sweat in his hairline. Cas measured out the length of chain. “Do you trust me?”

Dean nodded. He trusted Cas implicitly, even as the chain wrapped around his neck.

Cas hooked the chain back when the proper amount of slack was given. He heard the sound of denim sliding off of Cas’s legs, then the familiar snap of the top of the lube. He felt Cas settling in behind him on his knees. Cas’s hand took hold of Dean’s handcuffed wrists and held them tight as he pushed into Dean, thrusting against him so Dean’s body lurched, the chain’s slack catching as he was canted forward, Cas holding his wrists tight enough so that the chain didn’t jerk on Dean’s neck. He panicked quietly for a second before realizing Cas had him. Cas always had him. The chain around his neck was only a counterbalance, holding him up, squeezing his throat _just_ enough. He had complete control.

Cas thrust into Dean, forcing him forward, the thick chain pressing against his neck, Cas pulling hard against his handcuffs, reeling Dean in back toward him. He pounded into Dean, fucking him harder than he’d ever let himself before. Sweat rolled down his face. He glanced down, bringing his free hand down on Dean hard, spreading his ass to watch his cock pushing in and pulling back out of him.

Dean grunted quietly at the slap, low enough that Cas hadn’t heard him. The pressure of the chain against his neck made his vision start to go black around the edges as he let himself fall forward, relishing in Cas fucking him relentlessly. He sidled back onto Cas, greedy, bracing himself and pushing back onto him, trying to match his rhythm.

Cas stopped.

“Oh, Dean,” he chided. “You’re not supposed to move.” Cas stayed unmoving, running his hand along Dean’s back. “I think we’ll have to just pause for a moment until you regain control of yourself.”

Dean whimpered. Cas’s arm flexed as he pulled Dean back toward him, settling deep inside and not moving. Sweat ran from Cas’s brow. He picked up the knife and started at his shoulder blades, running it beside Dean’s spine, pressing the blade down onto his skin.

“Are you going to move again?” Cas asked. Dean shook his head. Cas traced over the beautiful round cheeks of Dean’s ass with the knife. “You’re being so good. Would you like to move?” Dean nodded. “Do you want to fuck yourself back onto me?” Dean nodded again, a desperate exhale bursting out of his mouth through clenched teeth as he leaned into the chain, sucking air in and out in quick succession as if he’d been holding his breath. “Go ahead,” Cas started, setting the knife aside. He took Dean’s hip in his hand and settled back on his heels, pulling Dean up to relieve the pressure from his neck. “Go ahead, Dean. Fuck yourself on me.”

Dean moved slow at first trying to find balance, but as his legs settled into a good spot, he was able to fuck back onto Cas’s cock until he was sitting up again, the chain drooping down his chest as he bounced up and down on Cas’s cock, his come spurting out onto his stomach and the floor. Cas pulled Dean’s head back by his hair to expose his neck and raked his teeth across Dean’s skin as he fucked himself into bliss. Cas backed out of Dean and slid his cock up behind him, coming on his back. Dean leaned back against Cas, breathing heavy, having been desperate to call out and moan, Cas’s come rolling down onto his restrained hands.

 

Cas pet Dean’s forehead, pushing his sweaty hair back. “You were so very good, Dean.” He kissed his shoulders. “You’re going to be sore. Let’s go get cleaned up and let you rest. I’ll take care of your wrists.”

Dean felt the burn now, the stinging sensation of cut skin. Cas freed Dean’s hands, his skin tinged with blood. Cas kissed his wrists.

“Are you feeling alright, Dean? Are you okay?” Cas asked, dipping his head to try to catch Dean’s eyes that were still cast down in submission.

His voice came out broken as he answered. “Fine. I’m absolutely fine. That was…new.”

“Was it okay? You didn’t say either of the words,” Cas said, worried.

"Oh no, it was good,” Dean assured him. “Very, _very_ good.” Now he blushed admitting how great that was. The chain as a counterbalance was something he hadn’t thought of before. He knew he liked being choked, but this had been something else entirely.

“Let’s go get those taken care of,” Cas said, looking at the cuts on Dean’s wrists. He helped Dean step into his pants and pulled them up for him. Cas grabbed an old towel and cleaned up the mess on the floor, joking about how he’d have to come back with a mop and bleach later. He unlocked the door to the room to let Dean out ahead of him and picked up the things he had brought in, tucking them away in his pockets. He was happy to see that Dean had waited on him, and the two walked down the halls, Dean bumping his shoulder into Cas playfully as they made their way back to their room.

 

 


	3. One to the Head

“We’ve got another hit,” Sam said, turning his laptop around to Dean.

Sam had gotten up early, and when Dean had stumbled into the kitchen in the morning to get a drink before returning to bed, he felt guilty when he saw his brother up and working. He rocked back and forth on his heels for a few seconds before scratching his bedhead and turning on the coffee pot.

“Another? When?” he asked.

“Twenty-three. Hailey Calder. Went missing two days ago. We’ve never had one this close time-wise before. She’s from Smith Center, but her car was found last night by Lovewell Reservoir about an hour away from where she works.”

“That’s really fucking close,” Dean said, looking concerned. “We need to check it out.”

“Dean, no, we have nothing more than what we had last time and we need to –“

“What do we need to do, Sam?” Dean interrupted. “Sit here and stare at missing persons photos feeling like the joke’s on us while we wait for this Hailey girl to turn up dead in the reservoir? No. Not happening.” Dean stood up and stalked off toward his room.

“Dean,” Sam said half-heartedly with a sigh, futility in his voice. He took a pen and a small notepad and wrote down the directions to the reservoir.

 

Cas was still heavily asleep when Dean came into the room, which was unlike him. Usually he was up before Dean.

“Hey, Cas, up and at ‘em. We have work to do.” Dean pulled on his pants and got a clean shirt from the drawer.

Cas leaned up on one elbow with one eye open, the other pinched shut. “What are we doing?”

“Local girl’s gone missing same day you got snatched, police found her car, we need to find her quick, fast, and in a hurry.” Dean buttoned up his shirt quickly and cursed when he missed a button, having to go back and fix it.

“Are you okay? You seem on edge.”

“Yeah, just…I’m fucking pissed and want to get this thing. I know taking that girl from around here, that’s whatever this thing is just fucking with us and I’m over the games.”

Cas pulled himself out of bed, fighting the sleep that was calling him back to the pillow. Seeing Dean so flustered and upset outweighed his exhaustion, giving him the energy to get dressed quickly as he tried to keep up with Dean.

 

* * *

 

 Sam gave Dean directions as they approached the reservoir. Tracy and Cas sat silently in the backseat, neither of their minds focused on the drive. Dean approached the area where Hailey’s car was found and stopped, the four getting out of the Impala to start their work immediately, searching the area for any sort of sign that could finally give them a break in the case. Dean walked the entire perimeter as if he were doing a police call line, his head down, scanning every inch of ground. All the noises of the woods around them faded as he concentrated on the forest floor.

“I got something!” Tracy called from somewhere behind him, her voice faint. Dean turned to head back.

“What is it?” Sam said from somewhere slightly closer off to his left.

“Sulfur. It’s definitely sulfur.” Tracy was adamant, her tone reflecting her growing intensity and excitement that they finally had something to go off of.

“Dean!”  Cas yelled.

“Dean, where are you?” Sam called.

“On my way!” he sent back, throwing his voice as loud as he could. He wasn’t sure how far he’d drifted as he walked. Everything around him seemed off; his sense of perception felt altered. His shoes crunched through the leaves as he headed back to where they had parked. He still couldn’t see the Impala but faintly heard Sam and Tracy’s voices bantering back and forth, making him lightheaded. “Fucking demons,” he muttered.

“Yeah, fucking demons,” came a deep voice from behind him. Dean startled and pulled his knife, spinning around to face whoever was there, but before he could register anything a blow struck his head and the forest went black. Before he went completely unconscious he heard the voice add, “Took you long enough.”

  

Dean was fading in and out for several minutes before he finally came to. He couldn’t open his eyes – not because they were swollen shut, and for that he was thankful, but because his head was splitting. The pain reverberated through his skull, the sharp ache from the right side of the top of his head radiating down. The strange sensation was gone, but now he wished he had it back. The taste of iron in his mouth let him know he’d been bleeding and probably still was. When the pounding in his head eased as he woke up he smelled it, that somehow familiar rusty smell of chains and blood. He was on his knees, sitting on his heels. His hands were bound behind his back in irons, slung up just enough to make him uncomfortable and sore. When he got released, the discomfort would be much worse. It was silent wherever he was, and dark. No light shone through his eyelids to register, so either he was somewhere isolated or a lot more time had passed than he would have liked. A drip drip drip sounded like something he’d heard recently, water coming from the ceiling and hitting against a concrete foundation. The smell of wet leaves hit him, and he thought he knew exactly where he was.

“ _H-hello_?”

“Hailey?” Dean managed to choke out, not recognizing his own voice.

“Yes!”

“Where are you? I can’t move.”

“We’re in a building. It’s rundown. No idea where.”

“I think I do. If we’re where I think we are, I’ve got people coming.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Doesn’t matter.” Dean winced at the pounding in his head.

“Are you a cop?” she asked.

“No,” Dean answered. “Who brought you here?”

“A lady. Real pretty. Olive skin, shorter dark hair in like a long bob, light eyes. I met her at a bar after work. I had a rough day and just needed to blow off a little steam and here was this woman who just…you ever meet someone who gives off this vibe of power?” Hailey rambled, half from nerves and half glad to have someone to talk to.

Dean exhaled sharply and nodded, then regretted it immediately. “Yeah. I know that vibe.” Yellow Eyes. Abaddon. Cain. Shit, even Cas when he had his wings.

“These guys were messing with me and she just swooped in, saving the day.”

“Did she make you a deal?”

“A deal?” Hailey asked. “No. Just offered a suggestion on how to deal with them. Not the first time it’s happened, you know? Same assholes since high school.”

“And what did your lady in shining armor suggest?”

Hailey didn’t say a word.

“Well that can’t be good.”

“Maybe you’ll be my knight in shining armor and actually get me out of this place.”

Footsteps plodded casually across the floor, the crunch of glass sounded off to Dean’s left, near the girl. “Oh honey, he’s a _knight_ , but not the kind you’re hoping for.”

“Who the hell are you?” Dean barked, breathing deep and pinching shut his eyes until the shock of pain subsided.

“Your wildest dream.” The voice was smooth as silk.

“You’re not who hit me,” Dean said.

“No, darling. We thought you would have at least figured out part of the equation by now. I mean, Winchesters have quite the reputation. But then Reb and I just have had so much fun the past months we couldn’t possibly stop now. Just wanted to step up the game, see if you could catch up.”

“Reb?”

“My partner in crime,” the woman said, her tone smug. “That Bell girl is running with you guys these days, right?” Dean didn’t answer. “Thought so. I guess you could say that she and Reb have a history.”

“Well why don’t we get Tracy and Reb here with my brother and we can all have a picnic and catch up on good times.”

Dean’s phone rang. Footsteps approached Dean and he tried to squint open his eyes.

They instantly burned when he got them open and the pain that shot through his head disagreed with his choice to take a look around. He could see the figure walking toward him, picking up his phone from his jacket pocket in the floor five feet away from him, turning on speakerphone.

“Dean Winchester’s phone. He’s a bit tied up at the moment, but I’d be pleased to give him a message.”

“ _Who is this_?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. Where are my manners? I’m Mara, and you’re Sam. You have Tracy Bell and a fallen angel with you, is that correct?” Sam didn’t respond. “You two are great communicators, has anyone ever told you that? And such good sports when you’re losing.”

 _“Where is my brother_?” Sam’s voice was terse, and Dean could tell he was gripping the steering wheel a little too hard.

Dean mustered his strength and yelled, “Cas’ll know where I’m at.”

Mara shot him a look, but she didn’t lose her cool demeanor. “Yes. Cas should know where he’s at. You should probably come pick him up. He’s not feeling so well and I honestly just don’t think he’s ready for sleepovers yet.”

 

* * *

 

Sam pulled the Impala onto the side road leading to the dilapidated building and sped over the dirt and gravel, kicking up some dust as he drove over the dry part of the road. When it was in view, Sam stopped the car and barely got it in park before all three of them were out and running toward the collapsed, overgrown edges of the tiny factory. Sam and Tracy followed Cas as he led them through the fallen wall and further into the damp concrete structure, reversing the steps he had taken as he followed Dean the night he’d been tied to the chair. As they approached the open area, a voice called out to them.

“Come on, then. Stop sneaking about and wasting our time, Sammy.”

Sam reluctantly stepped out from behind the wall separating them. “Here. I’m here. What do you want?”

“I know you’re here,” Mara said, rolling her eyes. “I also know you have two others with you, so don’t try to be slick, okay Paul Bunyan?”

“I’m just here for my brother,” Sam said, stepping carefully toward Mara. He shot a look at Dean, who was barely conscious, his head hanging down.

Mara smiled. “Aw, sweetheart, of course you are. Sam Winchester, doing everything he can to save his brother. It’s a touching epic, really; the two of you making sacrifices and fighting for each other.” Mara practically glided when she walked, slinking over to Sam’s side, leaning her shoulder onto his arm warmly as if they were friends. “And I’ll tell you a secret, Sam – we all love it. Even we can’t ignore how annoyingly fantastic the Winchester gospel is. But you know what would be great – maybe even better? Getting to live your life. You and Dean, doing whatever you two want to do until you die of old age. Have families, watch your kids and then your grandkids grow up, dying peacefully in your sleep. I know you both have thought about it at least once.”

“It’s crossed our minds, but that’s just not in the cards for us,” Sam said, agitated with how comfortable Mara was with him, and how relaxed she made him feel. “We’ve tried it before.” His eyes were locked on Dean, watching his brother’s back move as he breathed in and out, blood on the floor around him. “It didn’t work out.”

“I could make that happen. Call off any bounties on your heads, ensure the safety of your families. Before you were always worried, having to look over your shoulder. Not this time,” Mara promised.

“What’s the catch?” Sam asked, not remotely believing her.

“Walk away. Take your brother and walk away. You leave me be,” she started, turning to face Sam, bringing his gaze to hers. “You leave me be and ignore what I’ve got going on – strictly business, I promise – and at least let your brother meet up with my boss. A meeting. That’s all. I walk away, you meet the boss lady, and you’re under our protection.”

Her eyes were striking and intense, and Sam found himself lost in them for a moment before shaking free. “Bullshit. There’s never a ‘that’s all’ with demons.”

Mara ran her hand up the backside of his tie, the knuckle of her middle finger sliding against his shirt. “You got me. I’ve got a little prize over here I’m going to use to pay off a debt. It’s one girl. But she’s none of your business.”

Sam’s jaw clenched. “If you’re planning on hurting her like the others, it’s my business.”

“Come on Sam,” Mara said, circling him. “Let one slide.”

Someone kicked a piece of the ceiling tile that had fallen to the floor some years ago and sent it skittering across the floor. Sam looked up and Mara turned to see a large man dragging a struggling Cas by the neck, a knife to his throat.

“I found company,” the man said, his voice slick and disturbed. Cas grimaced at the sound of it.

“Cas,” Sam said, starting to move toward him. Mara placed her hand below his chest and stopped him with a soft touch. Sam was surprised she didn’t throw him back across the room though he knew she could.

“What are you doing, Rebo?” Mara asked through her teeth.

“I’m tired of leaving breadcrumbs. I want to leave something a little more…memorable.” His teeth flashed and sent a chill through Sam.

Sam looked over at Dean who was finally waking up, trying to take a quiet inventory of his surroundings and everything that was happening.

“Where’s the girl?” he grunted, his throat almost shouting as the words erupted from him.

“Tucked away,” Mara sighed. She turned to Rebo. “What exactly are you doing?”

"I thought I’d get a little inside information. Boss lady could always use a little more.”

“Inside information?” Sam asked.

“Yeah,” Rebo said, his shining eyes suggesting something diabolical. “You want to watch?”

Mara rolled her eyes at his theatrics. Sam was slammed against the wall, the air knocked out of his lungs with the flick of her wrist.

“We need them alive, Reb. Aosoth will be very displeased if someone’s heart stops. Negotiations go better when no one is holding a grudge and looking for revenge.”

“Just a little fun,” Reb whispered, dragging Cas with him as he moved closer to Mara, Cas’s feet tripping along the way. “Give me five minutes. I just want to shake him up a little.” He looked at Dean, who had locked his eyes on Rebo.

“You think that’s wise?” Mara asked.

Rebo smiled. He grabbed Cas by the head, pulling it back to expose his neck and chest. Using the knife, he popped the first two buttons on his shirt, pushing the collar back to expose his anti-possession tattoo.

“Winchesters.” Rebo laughed and shook his head. He looked Cas in the eyes. “This is gonna hurt.”

 _“Stop!”_ Dean screamed as hard as he could, watching and growing angrier as Rebo cut into Cas’s skin, creating a cut four inches long over the tattoo.

“I wish I had the time and patience to cut this out properly, but this will have to do.”

With the skin flayed open from the hunting knife, Rebo winked at Mara and threw his head back, black smoke billowing out of this body he was in. Cas’s eyes were full of fear. He heard Dean screaming, practically roaring _No!_ as everything went dark.

  


 


	4. Two in the Chest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for torture/graphic depiction of violence.

 

Rebo stood for a moment beside his previous body who was comatose on the floor. He unbuttoned Cas’s shirt, rolling his neck from side to side, trying to take in his new, albeit temporary, digs. He searched Cas’s mind, his fearful thoughts and panic over Sam and Dean’s safety, wondering where Tracy was and if she was okay….

“Where is Tracy?” Reb asked. “And what is wrong with this guy’s voice? The two of them sound like they’ve been gargling with gravel,” he said, gesturing between Cas and Dean with his knife.

“Whatever you plan on doing Reb, do it and be done. I’m going to remove this one,” she said, nodding to Sam, “and check on the girl.” Mara walked over to Sam and picked him up with one hand, half dragging him down the back hall across the room. Sam grasped his neck as if he was being choked by an invisible hand.

Rebo turned his attention to Dean. He sauntered over in Cas’s body, shrugging off his jacket and untucking his shirt. Dean froze in anger, his entire body rigid, lips snarled and eyes on fire. He could feel the warmth from the Mark on his arm radiating up toward his shoulder, begging for the Blade that wasn’t there.

“Dean, Dean, Dean,” Rebo said, squatting down to his level. “The things in Castiel’s mind are just…shocking. You know he’s a little turned on seeing you like this? Or maybe that’s just how you play at home.” Dean lifted his head and met Rebo’s gaze. Cas’s eyes looked back at him forcing him to look away. Rebo looked at Cas’s hand, flexed his fingers out and clenched his fist. He lifted Dean’s chin and smiled, sending a right hook across his face. He stood, shaking out Cas’s fist. “Damn it, Winchester. That jaw of yours might hurt a man.” Glass and leaves crunched at his feet as he made a circle around Dean. He took the knife and ran the tip of the sharp blade along Dean’s spine, pressing hard enough for Dean’s breath to catch and his body to tense up. Blood beaded up through his shirt in places where Rebo pressed the hardest, staining the fabric red.

“What do you _want_?” Dean barked, his teeth clenched shut and breathing labored, a string of blood and spit flying from his mouth. The Mark on his arm burned, as if all his rage was channeling through it.

“I’m just curious,” Rebo started, “between you and me, how is that Knight of Hell thing going, stirring below the surface? Does everyone really believe that you’re all, Dean Winchester – cured demon and human hero? Because you’re not fooling us. You should probably stop fooling yourself.”

The words that fell from Cas’s lips had a strangely familiar tone that sounded all wrong. Dean’s mind flooded with memories, trying to remember where he’d heard it and it hit him - Camp Chitaqua. A heavy weight sank into his gut.

“We’re all waiting for you to turn dark side and make a little farewell tour before heading downstairs, maybe help clean up Crowley. We’ve been wishing, and hoping, and thinking, and praying,” he sang, sliding from foot to foot and then stopped, “– well, maybe not praying. But you understand.”

Dean groaned, wishing Reb would just shut up. “Well it doesn’t look like it’s gonna play out that way, Julia Roberts.” Rebo moved quickly in front of Dean, Cas’s face centimeters away. He lifted Dean’s chin with the knife, the sharp edge nicking his skin. Dean spat at him.

“That’s not nice, Dean. And you still haven’t answered my question, which makes me wonder if that’s an answer all on its own.” Reb cocked his head to the side, looking at the rage building in Dean’s eyes quizzically. “Does the Mark call to you, Dean Winchester? Asking you to take your place in hell?” He ran the tip of the knife along Dean’s jaw, breaking the skin. Dean winced but held strong.

“Cas, I know you’re in there. Just hang on for me,” Dean said, staring straight at Reb.

Rebo cut the buttons off of Dean’s shirt one at a time, exposing his chest. He tilted his head, admiring his tattoo. “Maybe I should have taken you for a ride instead. And with the Mark?” He whistled. “Hindsight. But I have to admit, this is fun.”

“Glad you’re enjoying yourself,” Dean said, adjusting his hands to try to take some pressure off his elbow.

“You know I used to be an angel,” Rebo mentioned, kneeling in front of Dean.

“Well in my experience, most angels are douchebags so it looks like you’d fit in just fine.”

Reb took his knife, blade in hand as if he were holding a pen. He started etching, scratching around Dean’s tattoo, tracing it as he spoke. “I was cast down for letting a prostitute through the gates of heaven. Redemption meant nothing in earlier days. Since then, I’ve been palling around with Mara. She attempts to lead souls to damnation and harvests them, a fate which they nearly always choose for themselves. Quite the sweet talker, that one.”

Dean’s skin was red and raised, his face twinging at each cut. Blood ran down his chest, and what didn’t get caught on his shirt or jeans started dripping down into the ground.

“I just want to remind you of your options, Winchester. Like this, you’re weak. You’re frail and human. But if you allow the demon, the knight inside of you to rise up, you could be unstoppable.” Reb finished tracing the anti-possession tattoo with the knife but left it on his body. “Feels like cheating. I think we’d rather let you make that choice. We’re not completely unreasonable.”

Dean looked at Cas’s hands, red with his blood. This wasn’t just for Dean’s pain - it was for Cas’s.

“Where is Tracy, by the way? I hear we have some unfinished business she’s hoping to close.”

“I don’t know,” Dean said. “I’ve been busy today.” He shifted his hands again, trying to relieve pressure from the metal cutting into his wrists from when he fell unconscious.

“Tell her I said hello, and I’d love to see her again. I bet she grew up pretty.”

Cas’s hands touched Dean’s chest in a way that would have been intimate if it weren’t for the demon residing in him. He had to think of a way to get Reb out of Cas before he did something out of his own control.

“I almost forgot,” Reb said, raising up the knife again. He started carving into the left side of Dean’s chest. “Do you think Rebo was here is cliché?”

“How about Rebo is a second rate, rambling asshat?”

The corner of Cas’s mouth turned up as he pushed the knife into Dean’s skin, forming an R in four slices.

The pain rushed through Dean, causing him to cry out. Each cut deeper and more painful than the last, his skin screaming and stained with his own blood.

“Perdition,” he whispered, trying not to pass out. If he blacked out, he wouldn’t know what he’d be capable of, and he didn’t want to hurt Cas. “Perdition. _Perdition_.” His body swung forward, hanging by his hands, his small wounds from the previous night cracked open and new ones just making it worse. “Perdition,” he repeated louder, looking into Cas’s face, pleading.

Reb ignored Dean’s mumblings and then suddenly paused his bloody torture. “Why is there…do you hear that?” he asked, looking around.

“Hear what?” Dean coughed out.

“That. _That_!” he yelled, looking around. “Is someone trying to _exorcise_ me?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, man.”

“What did you say?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Dean repeated, exhausting himself trying to get the words out in one breath.

“No, before.”

“I said _perdition_.”

Rebo dropped the knife and put his hands over Cas’s ears, looking horrified. “No! That’s impossible! Stop! How is he doing this? _Mara_!” he screamed.

Black smoke erupted from Cas’s mouth, swirling through the air before finding its way into the comatose body across the room. Cas collapsed in front of Dean, and when Rebo came to, he stood and started toward Cas, landing a kick on his back.

“How the fuck did you do that, you bastard?” he yelled.

“Reb, what the hell is going on?” Mara asked frantically as she entered the room.

Reb wailed another kick against Cas.

Dean let out a guttural yell. Pulling at his restraints to get to Cas, he could feel the blackness try to consume him.

“He exorcised me from inside!”

“Reb, stop!” Mara yelled. She was too late. Reb turned to see Tracy Bell standing in front of him, smiling and wielding Ruby’s knife.

Tracy stabbed the knife up through his skull, wasting no time on words. She was out for revenge and was taking it. Her victory speech could be played in her head after the monster she’d sought after for too many years had been destroyed. Reb’s head lit up, his existence stuttering out, the poor man whose body he’d taken some years ago falling to the floor, Reb’s horrified response reflected in wide eyes and gaping mouth. The girl he’d tortured and whose family he killed had taken him out without a word.

Cas took Rebo’s knife and lifted Dean off his knees, releasing the tension in his arms. Dean groaned, leaning against Cas for leverage as he stood. Sam ran in with Hailey in tow, surveying the scene. Mara was gone.

"Sam! I need your assistance!” Cas yelled, unable to get Dean free.

Sam put Hailey down and approached his brother. He looked at the chains and lock then stalked back across the room in what seemed like three strides, snatching a bobby pin from Hailey’s head and returning to Dean.

“A bobby pin? Really?” Dean asked. “Isn’t that a little cliché?”

“Do you want free or not?” Sam asked. “Because I can leave your ass here if you want.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Just get me down. Get these the fuck off, please.”

Cas held Dean up by leaning hard into him, helping him make it look as if he was better off than he was. Tears streamed down Dean’s face onto Cas’s shirt. Sam finally got the irons off. Dean slowly let his arms ease to his sides, his muscles and tendons locked up and everything from his shoulders to his fingers feeling detached from his body. He let out a groan that built into a near-roar that echoed through the building and made Hailey, who was already on edge, freeze in place.

“Tracy, are you okay?” Sam asked.

“Better than ever.”

“Help Hailey to the car, would you? Anything you want to eat is on me. Thanks for saving our asses.”

“You’re gonna regret that promise of food, Winchester. I’m starving.” Tracy smiled at Sam and threw Hailey’s arm over her shoulder, pulling her up off the ground. “You’re going to go broke feeding me,” she said over her shoulder. The girls headed out toward the car, Hailey still in a stupor over what she’d seen, not realizing how much more she’d missed.

“Cas,” Dean murmured. “Cas, you with us?”

Cas braced himself against Dean, keeping them both steady, his face stern. “I’m here. We need to leave.”

Sam and Cas helped Dean to the car, sliding him into the backseat with Tracy. Cas fell in beside Dean and by the time he had closed the door, Sam had the car started and was headed toward the road Hailey rode shotgun and Sam consoled her, calmed her enough to make her understand how there was to be no mention of them or what she’d seen, and that she would be safe if she laid low for a few days. Tracy kicked the back of the driver’s seat and reminded Sam about his promise, and after some deliberation between the two, she finally agreed to quick drive thru food now, and a real meal when things settled down. They dropped Hailey off at a quiet public park with a full stomach. She thanked them, but still looked stunned, which would help when she told whoever found her the story they’d practiced while she ate.

 

* * *

 

The Impala’s engine rumbled in park outside the bunker, Sam lost in thought. Tracy reached over and turned the ignition off, took the keys out, and placed them into Sam’s hand, closing his fist around them. Cas moved slowly, helping Dean out of the backseat and to the bunker steps while Sam got the door. Finding some medical supplies, he met Cas and Dean as they made their way to Dean’s room.

“Where are you going? We should probably do this in the kitchen,” Sam said, looking pained at his brother’s bloody and tattered skin.

“Fuck that. I’m taking a shower. We’ll deal with it later.”

“Are you sure? You gonna be okay?” Sam looked to Cas, who nodded as assurance that he’d take care of Dean. “If you need me, come get me.” Sam set the gauze, bandages, tape, and antiseptics down on Dean’s dresser and left with some hesitancy.

Dean already had the shower running and was standing in front of the mirror while it heated up, looking at himself and taking note of his injuries. He started to touch the cuts on his chest, but they were tender and a few were deep enough to need stitches.

Cas stood in the doorway. “Let’s get you cleaned up quickly. I think Sam might have to help with some of these. You shower and I’ll just get him back in here.”

“No, I can do it,” Dean said. “I’ll sew it up myself.”

“You’ll do no such thing,” Cas said.

Dean snapped. “I said I’ll do it my damned self, and then we’re heading out to meet this bitch.” He flinched when Cas moved to put his hand on his shoulder.

Cas withdrew his hand slowly and watched Dean get into the shower before going to get Sam.

 

Cas wasn’t surprised to find Sam pacing in the kitchen, waiting for water to boil and sterilizing surgical scissors.

“He won’t let me touch him, Sam. He won’t even look at me and won’t let anyone help him.”

“I’ll stitch him up,” Sam said. “And if he argues I’ll just put a little pressure on his shoulder and he’ll shut up.” He started walking down the hall with Cas trailing behind him.

“Can I do anything?” Tracy called after them.

“Bring the water once it’s done boiling,” Sam bellowed back at her. “And a few towels from the kitchen drawer!”

“On it!” she yelled as Sam disappeared into Dean’s room.

Sam started laying out the medical supplies. “Do you need to be stitched up, Cas? I didn’t even think to ask. I’m sorry.”

Cas touched his chest with blood stained hands. “No. I think I’m okay, but you would know best.” He showed Sam the cut.

Sam looked at Cas like he was a little kid who lied. “First of all, you’re covered in blood. Take your shirt off and sit down.” Tracy arrived with the boiled water, scissors, and towels. Sam cleaned Cas’s chest and started sewing him up.

Dean came out of the bathroom in a pair of sweatpants to find his room full of people and Sam finishing the last sutures on Cas at the desk.

“Fucking hell, guys. Get out,” he mumbled. “I’m fine.”

Tracy winced when he patted his chest with his towel, gently drying his wounds. Surveying the tension in the room, she decided to make her exit.

“I’ll leave you guys to it. Please come get me if I can help.”

Sam stopped her. “No, Tracy, we could use your help if you don’t mind staying.”

“Sure,” she said, nervously smoothing her hands on the front of her jeans. “What can I do?”

Sam had Tracy finish cleaning up Cas while he started giving Dean stitches, then she moved to Dean’s right side. Dean was pissed off but wasn’t in any condition to argue. He was exhausted and extremely light headed but was still determined to finish everything that night.

“Stop thinking about it,” Sam said.

“About what?”

“Going after this Aosoth. We’re not doing it tonight.”

“And why the hell not?”

“Dean, you need rest. We’re not going out there just for you to pass out.”

“I’m not gonna pass out,” Dean argued.

Cas shook his head. “Will you stop being so pig-headed? I know how terrible I’m feeling. If you’re feeling as bad or worse than I am, which is more than likely, there’s no way we’d be able to put up much of a fight.”

"Plus,” Tracy said, “we need to find out what she is. I’ve never heard of her, you guys are clueless.”

Sam glared at her.

“Sorry, but, am I wrong?” She waited for Sam to shake his head, then continued. “Going out there without knowing would be a huge mistake, and you know it.”

Dean heaved a sigh and rolled his eyes. “Fine. Tomorrow we figure it out and then we’re taking her down.”

“Absolutely,” Sam assured him. “I’ll start looking into it tonight.”

Dean cringed. “ _Easy_!”

“Sorry,” Sam said, pulling slower on the next stitch. He cleared his throat. “Hey guys, I’ll finish Dean up if you want to go. Cas, maybe you could get yourself and Dean something to drink.”

“Sure,” Tracy said.

Cas stood. “I can do that.” He pulled on a shirt and laid a hand on Dean’s shoulder, but Dean tensed at the touch. His face fell as he moved his hand away, looking to Sam. He gave a commiserating nod, turned to leave, following Tracy out.

“Dean, that wasn’t Cas in the warehouse.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Dean snapped.

Sam sighed. “I know you know. I just…you know you’re flinching every time he touches you? And he remembers everything that Reb did. He had to experience that. He fought against it. He exorcised that demon from inside to get him to stop hurting you. We’ve never seen anything that.”

“I know, Sam.”

“He’s torn up over it, Dean. That’s all I’m saying. Don’t take it all out on him. He wasn’t the one that did this to you.”

“I’ll talk to him,” Dean promised. “I’m not…I’m not mad at him.”

“Just make sure he knows that. He’s hurting pretty bad.”

Sam finished stitching Dean up and looked at his brother’s chest. He was going to have scars – not that Dean was new to that, but these were definitely going to be noticeable.  Unless the ‘R’ healed well, he would have a terrible physical reminder of this. He packed up the medical supplies but left a bunch of gauze and tape on the desk, as well as some antiseptic wash and anti-bacterial ointment.

“Cas can tape you up.”

“Thanks, Sam.”

“No problem. Get some rest, okay? See you in the morning.”

“Yeah, see ya.”

 

Cas said goodnight to Sam as they passed in the doorway, handing one of the two glasses of water he carried to Dean.

“Were we out of beer?” Dean asked.

“No, I just thought with the amount of blood you lost, water would be the better choice.”

“True,” Dean said with a smile. “Sit down.”

Cas moved slowly, sitting on the bed next to Dean. “Are you okay?”

“Not at all,” Dean answered. Cas was taken aback by his honesty. “But I’ll be fine. I always am. This horror show will heal,” he said, looking at his chest, “and I’ll manage everything else.”

“Of course you will.” Cas sipped his water.

“And you know I still trust you, right?”

Cas looked to Dean, the heartbreak wearing on his face. “You do?”

“I might need some time with some things, but of course, Cas. I trust you.”

“Let me get your wounds dressed, and we’ll go to bed. I think we both need to sleep.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Dean said, downing the rest of his water.

Cas took his empty glass and stood, setting it on the desk. He finished his own drink and got the ointment, gauze, and medical tape, returning to stand in front of Dean. He covered Dean’s wounds with the ointment and pressed gauze over his chest, taping around the edges. As he placed the last strip of tape and pressed it against Dean’s skin, his eyes flicked up to Dean’s.

“Would you like me to sleep in another room tonight?” he asked, looking back to the gauze, making sure everything was covered.

“No,” Dean said softly. “No, I want you to stay here. Will you hand me a hoodie?” Cas nodded and got Dean his hoodie. He pulled it on over his head, grimacing with each movement.

“Are you cold?”

“Very. Probably the shock or something I’m sure. I’m just going to go to sleep.”  He slipped into bed, curling up on his right side.

Cas got in on his side, turned to face Dean. He looked at Dean’s freckles, his lips, the curve of his cheek; he saw the man he loved whose face was perfect to him. It took a moment for him to register the reality. He looked at the crack in Dean’s lip, the heavy exhaustion weighing on his face, his ill pallor. Cas’s heart sank. Dean’s eyelashes fluttered and his body shook.

“Dean?” Cas’s voice cracked. “Why don’t you move to my side of the bed. I can keep you warm and you can stay curled up like that if it makes you comfortable.”

Dean looked so vulnerable. He nodded and Cas got up out of bed, moving to Dean’s side and sliding in behind him.

Dean shifted across the bed and settled into the same position he was in, chills still running through him. Cas’s arm stuttered unassured as he moved his arm over Dean, trying not to hurt him and perhaps even more so afraid that Dean wouldn’t want him to touch him. Dean didn’t object to Cas’s arm resting across his middle, so Cas moved closer, holding Dean tighter until they both fell asleep.

 

 

 

 


	5. Wind Him Up

Dean shuffled out to the kitchen in his sweats, hands shoved into the front pocket of his hoodie. Tracy was sitting on the counter eating a bowl of cereal. She waved when he walked in, her mouth full. Dean grabbed a glass and filled it with water, downing it before pouring another.

“How are you feeling this morning?” Tracy asked once her mouth was clear.

“Like I’ve been hit by a truck. Where’s Sam?”

“He and Cas were digging deep this morning and found some room full of books that they’re combing through, hoping to come up with something. I’m taking a break from staring at words I can barely pronounce. Oh! But I did find something. Aosoth isn’t a demon. Well…not entirely.”

“What is she?” Dean asked, pouring his third glass of water and setting it next to the sink.

“Nephalem.”

“Some angel-human hybrid? Why would the demons be kowtowing to her?”

“No, not Ne _phi_ lim,” Tracy corrected, putting her bowl down. “Ne _pha_ lem. Offspring of a demon and an angel.”

“Well that sounds fun,” Dean said, rubbing his shoulder.

“Oh, it’s badass. Sam and Cas are finding out specifically about Aosoth, but in general what we’re understanding from Cas and the books is that these things are just…hugely powerful. They can control time and space, are especially powerful at twilight since they’re a combination of light and dark – exceptionally scary and immortal.”

“Great. So how the hell are we supposed to kill her?” Dean asked.

Tracy’s smile faded.

“What?”

A fake smile spread across her face and froze. “Just a guess but, you know that whole First Blade, Mark of Cain thing?”

Dean sighed. “Shit.”

“Yeah, shit. You’re kind of our weapon and you’re kind of out of commission at the moment.”

“Out of commission my ass,” Dean said.

Tracy shot him a look. “You’re not up for a huge fight, and you know it.”

“Well it doesn’t look like we have any other options, do we?”  

“We’ve got something,” Sam said as he stormed into the kitchen, holding a book that looked hundreds of years old. “Aosoth is a dark female force, an entity who presides over passion and death. Daughter of Lucifer and Abaddon –”

“Daughter of Lucifer and Abaddon?” Dean repeated.

“Holy shit,” Tracy said.

“This is not good,” Cas sighed, shaking his head.

Sam continued. “Impervious to age, sickness, and both man-made weapons and those from heaven, there is no known way to kill a nephalem.”

“Awesome,” Dean said, a rough false laugh rising from him. “Now that – that is just great news.”

“Dean with the First Blade seems like it would be the best option since we don’t know of anything that will even make her blink, let alone kill her,” Tracy suggested.

“I don’t like this,” Cas said.

“Well it doesn’t look as if we have any choice. I’ll go get dressed,” Dean said, slapping the counter.

“Dean, wait – we have to figure out what we’re going to do,” Sam said.

“I’ll tell you what we’re going to do,” Dean said, “we’re going to go out to that damn warehouse, summon this fucking thing, and see what she wants. And if I have to kill her, I kill her. If we can get away without me having to move, even better. I just want this done. I’m getting dressed and we’re leaving.”

He stormed out of the kitchen. Cas looked to Tracy and Sam then turned and followed Dean.

 

 

The wind whipped leaves of red and yellow around Sam and Dean’s feet as they stood in the warehouse. A summoning spell had been set up, the circle placed in a devil’s trap surrounded by a ring of holy fire in hopes that one of those might at least slow her down. The lack of lore on nephalem was disheartening and very unhelpful. Cas and Tracy stood in the entrance of either hall on the back, both with angel blades. Sam nodded at Dean and handed him the Blade.

Dean felt the Mark trying to take over him, as if having possession of the Blade excited it. He wanted nothing more than not to have to use it. He hoped whatever this was could be resolved, but he knew it would not be that easy. It was never that easy. The pain in his chest had been bothering him, but suddenly it was much less, feeling like nothing more than scratches.

“We have to kill her before twilight,” Sam reminded Dean. “If we wait too long, she’ll be too powerful.”

Dean nodded. He looked around them, taking note of the fading daylight. They wouldn’t have a lot of time before it would be to her advantage if this required a fight. Gripping the handle of the Blade, he gestured at Sam to start the summoning.

Only a few words into it, a waft of red-black smoke rose up from the center of the fire-ringed circle, becoming more full-bodied as it moved. Sam and Dean exchanged looks as Sam kept speaking, but before he could finish a tall woman stood before them.

“I think that’ll do, sugar. All you had to do was knock three times,” she said in a lilting voice. Her hair was dark red; it looked as if it was a living creature, consisting of constantly waving red strands that gave off a light of their own. Her eyes were blue and piercing. Her face was like porcelain, without a single mark or sign of aging. She presented herself with an unsettling perfection and calming presence. She wore a long black cloak, and as she removed the hood, the waving stopped and the light flowed down her long locks and went out. Her lips curled on one side, turning up into a devilish smile. “Well,” she started, looking at the sigils and fire, “you sure did pull out all the stops. There wasn’t any reason for all this to-do. I just wanted to chat. Didn’t Mara tell you?”

“There was a problem with Mara,” Sam said.

“But an even bigger one with her buddy,” Dean added.

“I’m aware,” Aosoth said solemnly. “I’m very sorry about that. Mara was instructed to deliver a message to you and observe, not to harm. I think Rebo had difficulty with that aspect of their mission. Of course, he’d been drifting down this road for some time. I couldn’t even venture to say that his destruction was unfortunate. And I thank you for not pursuing Mara. She is quite the treasure, and I would hate to lose her.”

“So all this was about you wanting to speak with me?” Dean asked.

Aosoth smiled. “Just a conversation.” She looked down at the traps set for her. “And it looks as if you came prepared.” She closed her eyes. A wind manifested from where she stood and the holy fire was blown out. She stepped forward and the men stepped back. “Holy fire doesn’t work with me. Neither do devil’s traps. And I understand your friends are waiting for a time to strike like good little soldiers, but they can relax.”

Dean looked to Cas and Tracy. Tracy swallowed and lowered the blade. Cas looked wary and didn’t move. Sam stood up straighter, squaring his shoulders to Aosoth as she stepped closer. She stopped five feet from them, closing their initial distance by half. A wave of black smoke appeared behind her to her right and quickly manifested. A large man stood with his feet shoulder width apart, hands clasped in front of him, staring straight at the wall.

“Of course you understand I had to bring my own man,” she said. “I couldn’t very well show up alone, especially when you have your friends waiting in the wings, weapons ready. This is Chax. He’ll be taking care of the others while we chat.”

“Wait – taking care of?” Sam interjected.

“If there are any issues, and I certainly hope that we can be civil, Chax will make sure that everyone behaves. He may have helped Rebo in collecting you.”

Dean remembered the sensory confusion, the faintness before Rebo attacked him. “Well, let’s make sure Chax doesn’t have to get involved,” Dean said with a nervous chuckle.

Sam glared at him, his jaw flexing.

Dean shrugged and turned back to Aosoth. “You know, instead of killing people and sending demons in, you could have just called.”

“I had reasons for observing you. Admittedly, a lot of that was pure curiosity of your…state of things. Mara was simply doing as she would be on any other occasion, just leaving a few more love letters to get your attention. Now, down to business,”

Aosoth said, looking to Dean. “You killed my mother.” Dean’s eyes grew large, darting to Sam. “And you,” she said to Sam, “locked my father in the cage and left him there to rot. But, I can set these things aside because I have larger plans.”

“Which are?” Sam asked.

“Dean Winchester, helping me take over hell. We all know you’re still a demon. Even better, you’re a knight. You hold so much power, but you won’t unleash it. I know that with you by my side, Crowley can be usurped and my parents avenged.”

“You’re not still a demon, are you, Dean?” Sam asked, his face looking at Dean.

Dean shook his head and bit his lip.

Aosoth paced in front of them, keeping her distance. “He can’t tell you so, but your extensive efforts to cure him failed, Sam. Dean isn’t quite your average demon. And thanks to the Mark, he’s had an itch that he just _couldn’t_ let himself scratch ever since you brought back his humanity. Admirable, really.”

Cas started to make a move toward them. Aosoth raised her arms and leveled them even with her waist, palms flat and facing the ground. There was a strange deafening drop in noise as she moved, then instant silence. Dean moved his jaw to pop his ears from the change in pressure. There was no wind. Leaves were frozen midair. Tracy was slack jawed in the corner, unsure of what to do, while Cas was staring at Dean and Sam, trying to get some sign from them on what his move should be. Sam held his hand in a fist, letting Cas know to stop moving.

"Chax, now would be a good time for me to have some one-on-one time with Dean here,” Aosoth said.

Chax didn’t have to move. A moment later Tracy slid down the doorway to her knees, waving her hand in front of her face. She tried to speak, but nothing came out. Cas slowly turned around, putting his hands out before becoming still. Sam backed himself up into the wall. He tried to call out to Dean, but his voice was gone.

“What did you do?” Dean demanded.

“Calm down, Dean. I did nothing. Chax blinded your friends and made them deaf and mute for the time being so we won’t be interrupted.”

“He did _what_?”

“Relax, Dean. They’re fine. Confused, but fine. Just taking a time-out. Now you and I can have a conversation.”

“What do you think I could possibly want to do with you? Why would I want to go dark side and run hell? I’ve run from this. I have done everything I can to keep it below the surface. Why would I just turn over and let that monster out?”

Aosoth held out her hand, but Dean refused to take it.

“Yeah, I’m not holding your hand.”

“I always forget that you’re not one for affectionate contact from others you aren’t close with. I know how you’ve been treated. I know what demons and angels alike have done to you, but I only offer my hand in friendship.”

“Not really in the market for a bestie right now,” Dean said. He turned the handle of the First Blade in his hand.

“That’s fine. What I’m suggesting is a business relationship. I have Chax at my side, and would like you to join me as well. You have experience as an excellent torturer – you learned from and then applied your skills on Alastair himself. You’ve befriended Death. You stood up to my father and to archangels, and while I am not happy about it, you were able to kill my mother. Maybe most importantly, you were worthy of the Mark of Cain. Whether you like it or not, Dean. You’ve been chosen. Chosen again and again. From Michael’s Sword to a Knight of Hell. You were meant for greatness, Dean Winchester. And not on this earth. We could remove Crowley and his boring regime of bureaucracy. That’s not what hell is – or at least not what it’s supposed to be. If anyone understands the balance of light and dark, it’s me. But the hell that Crowley is running is no better than an eternal DMV. We need to be something people fear again. Even demons don’t fear hell any longer. It’s disrespectful to the legacy my father created, and I just can’t have that.”

“Why would I want to be a part of that?”

“Because you deserve it, Dean. It’s in you.”

Aosoth maintained her distance, keeping more than an arm’s length away from Dean. He hated how respectful she was being and the soothing security she exuded. He looked at Tracy, hands grasping the door frame as she sat on the floor trying to calm her panicked breathing. Cas was still, his mind working on how he was going to fix this. His knuckles were white from gripping so tight onto the handle of the angel blade. Sam’s mouth was moving, and it looked as if he was trying various incantations. Dean’s mind began to work. He plucked a red oak leaf out of the air and looked at it.

She had frozen everything except the people in the room.

Time was on his side.

She stopped time minutes before she’d be her most powerful. She truly had wanted to avoid a fight, otherwise she would have shown up at twilight and likely killed them all. Having kept time frozen for this long, she’d be weakened for just a moment after she turned on the reality switch. Chax was too far for him to get to, and if he blinded Dean too they’d be done for. He was down to one choice.

“So say I take you up on this. Sam can walk? No more demons or angels on his tail, happy life, safe?”

Aosoth crossed her arms in an elegant movement, circling back toward Dean. “The legions of hell would be at your orders, Dean. No one would dare touch your brother, or anyone else you hold dear.” Her eyes flit to Cas and back. “I believe Mara had already promised this to Sam yesterday if he had let her take her sacrifice, but he was too righteous to take her up on it.”

“Sounds like Sam.” Dean spun the Blade in his hand. “What’s our grand plan?”

She smiled at his choice in words. “Oh, Dean. We would be something to behold. Let’s just boil it down to restoring the natural order of things. No more wars between heaven and hell, just back to the way things were. A restoration of sorts.”

“I can’t argue with that,” Dean said with a shrug. His pain was near non-existent now, but the Mark was burning and he felt himself wearing thin. In his mind he saw Sam’s face when he asked if he was still a demon and heard his words, _We have to kill her before twilight_.

“May I see it?” she asked. “The Mark?”

Dean rolled up his sleeve, the Mark glowing, a spider web of wrathful desire spreading down his arm. Aosoth smiled and came close, her fingers delicately touching the scar. She moved into Dean’s space, grasping his arm with the tenderness as one would with a lover.

“We could be amazing, Dean.” Aosoth’s whispers were full of an eagerness and ambition. “I know you have it in you. End this incessant war for power. Reign over the righteous and the wicked souls on earth and in hell. Restore the balance of power.” She looked into Dean’s eyes, trying to look innocent as if she was just realizing how close she was to his face. With a smile, her covetousness returned. “We could do a lot together, the two of us.”

“I bet we could,” Dean breathed against her skin as he placed his hand in hers, ready to close their deal. His eyes blinked black and Aosoth beamed, glad for things to have gone her way. “Let’s end this.”

She waved her free hand at Chax and he released everyone who was under his control and disappeared. With a smooth wave of her hand, time started again. Cas and Sam called out choked words that Dean couldn’t hear over the pulse of the Mark. The wind blew. The leaves fell. And Dean struck.

The Blade thrust into Aosoth, and he felt instant regret. He wished he could have let her go, let her follow through with her plan. Her eyes filled with disbelief. Everything in him wanted him to keep stabbing her, to cut off her head, to bathe in her blood, but something just as strong made him show mercy. He lowered her to the ground, kneeling as he held her body.

“I didn’t want this,” he said, the pain returning to his chest.

“I sought you out,” Aosoth murmured as her life force started to stutter out. “I should have known that even a reasonable proposal would result in death at the hands of a Winchester. You kill me out of some unreasonable moral obligation, but I’m not my father or mother as much as you are not yours. We could have set things right.”

Dean shook his head. “Nothing will ever be right.”

Dean’s blade withdrew, and a shock of red covered him, the light flickering in her body stilling to nothing. Waves of red ran down her hair, fading until they extinguished at the ends. Dean held her body draped over his lap. He looked up at Cas who was running toward him and skidded to a stop when he saw the black of Dean’s eyes.

“Dean, put down the Blade.”

 

 

 

 

 


	6. Everything Comes Out in the End

The car ride home was silent.

Dean leaned against the crook between the seat and the door, letting his head rest against the cool window. His chest was throbbing, his skin sore. He felt weak and drained. And now he had to explain to his brother and Cas how their efforts to cure him hadn’t completely worked, only subdued the demon and allowed Dean’s humanity to take over. The tension in the car was palpable and he couldn’t wait to escape it. At least the bunker would give them room to breathe.

 

Sam cleared his throat before Dean could escape to his room. “Are you seriously going to just go get cleaned up and shrug off everything that just happened?”

Tracy touched his arm and gave it a squeeze. “I’m going to go ahead to bed. I’ll leave you guys to talk.”

Cas simply looked defeated.

“You’re….” Sam’s eyes went glassy. He blinked back tears. “It didn’t work?”

“I’m here, aren’t I? I’m not walking around with black eyes drinking every minute of the day and pummeling guys in the parking lot of a bar. I’m here. And it’s because of what you did. Both of you.”

“So what _are_ you?” Sam asked.

“I’m me, Sam. I died five months ago. Because of the Mark and the Blade I came back as a demon. I didn’t get reborn when you saved me. I still died. I’m a demon and, courtesy of Cain, a Knight of Hell.”

“How have you kept this from us?” Cas asked.

Sam rubbed his face with his hands. “Why didn’t you tell us it didn’t work?”

“I’ve kept it under control, Sam. _I won_ ,” Dean said with a smile and the smallest bit of pride he would allow himself. “I’m _still_ winning. Every day I fight it. Because you and Cas….” His eyes drifted to Cas who wore a pained look on his face that was surely twisting his gut. He had to explain better. “Okay, you saved me. And Cas saved you from me killing you when you couldn’t kill me. He saved both of us. And you, Sam. You did everything you could to get me back, and you did. I didn’t want you to know that it just wasn’t going to go away. If you had killed me, I’d have just come back again with black eyes and not giving a shit about anything. I’m not gonna lie, I’m struggling here. But I’m taking this day by day, getting up and doing the job and trying to just be me because I don’t wanna be that guy. He was empty and purposeless. I don’t want him to win out. Not while I have you guys in my life. I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep this up forever, but I’ll fight every day just to be the best I can for you both.”

Sam stared at Dean, a few tears that he couldn’t hold back rolling down his face. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.”

“I’m sorry I tried to make you let me go,” Dean said, pulling his brother in for a hug. 

Sam squeezed him tight.

“Sam, my chest. Too tight,” Dean said in quick gasps of breath.

“Oh, sorry,” he said, letting his brother go. “Sorry.”

“Stop apologizing, you giant baby.”

Sam half-smiled. “Go get a shower. And rest.”

“That sounds like a plan.”

 

 

Cas followed Dean down the hall to his room, watching him ready for the shower without a word. He took off his jacket and draped it over the chair, kicked off his shoes, and leaned into the steamy bathroom.

“Do you need me to replace your gauze?”

“I think I’ll let it breathe tonight,” Dean said gruffly from the shower.

Cas nodded in agreement even though Dean couldn’t see him. He pulled back the covers on Dean’s side, assuming the previous night’s switch would be repeated. Lying down in the bed, Cas let his body relax. The bruises on his back from Rebo’s assault were sore. His muscles pained as they slowly loosened. He didn’t want to think about it, but knowing for certain that Dean wasn’t healed made him remember all those moments he questioned that he’d seen something. That flicker in his eyes during rough sex, quick moments when things got heated when he could have sworn his eyes were playing tricks on him, but the feeling was gone before he could blink. He had thought, or maybe it was more of a hope, that Rebo’s taunting of Dean about going dark side while he was inside of Cas was just head games and nothing more. He had known better, but everything inside of him clung to the hopeful thought of Dean being his old self again. His heart won out over his head.

 

“Hey, can we talk?” Dean asked as he came out of the bathroom with sweatpants on, rubbing a hand back and forth through his damp hair.

“Of course,” Cas said, sitting up in the bed and settling against the headboard. His body was pained at the shift, but he ignored it.

Dean sat on the bed next to him. “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything.”

“Don’t, Dean.”

“No. Let me say something. I know all this sounds bad, that I might lose control. I can’t guarantee that won’t happen, especially while I still have the Mark. But I’ve been strong enough. And on top of that I’ve been able to keep from going all black-eyes in front of you and Sam – and I know that shouldn’t be a good thing, but in this case it is. I’m okay. I figure as long as I have you guys, I’m gonna be alright. If you don’t want to be with me right now, I understand. You say the word, and I’ll hit the couch or something.”

Cas tilted his head. “Why wouldn’t I want to be with you?”

“The whole demon thing ring a bell? Black eyes?” Dean’s eyes turned black for a moment then blinked back to normal.

“You told us you’re still you, Dean. And I believe you.” Cas smiled. “Plus,” he added, “it’s not the first time I’ve been with a demon. Of course I was an angel then, but –“

“Um, _what_?” Dean turned to face Cas, an incredulous look on his face.

“ _Dean_.”

No.” Dean shook his head and laughed. “No! _Really_? You and Meg?”

Cas blushed.

“You’re kidding me.” Dean chuckled.

“Are you done laughing?” Cas asked.

Dean struggled to keep a straight face. “Yes.” He cleared his throat and suppressed another smile. “Yes, I’m good.”

“Yes you are,” Cas said, pulling Dean to him. Dean threw a leg over Cas, sitting on his lap facing him. Both of their faces grew serious. “I know you said you trusted me, but I would more than understand if you didn’t want to do certain things.”

Dean’s lips pressed hard into a line. He gripped the headboard with his hands, trying to find the right words to explain himself. He rocked back onto Cas’s thighs to catch his eyes.

“I would be more comfortable if things were slightly more vanilla for a while.”

“Absolutely. No knives.”

“And…no chains. Or ropes. Can we just not have my hands restrained in any way? For a while at least.”

Cas took Dean’s hands in his, pulling them together toward his face, kissing the knuckles of Dean’s fists. “No restraints.” He kissed his wrists. “Nothing that makes you uncomfortable. Nothing even close.”

The two looked at each other for a moment in a silent appreciation. Dean whispered a thank you that was barely audible, but was so full of appreciation that Cas would never be able to forget it and what it meant to Dean. He leaned forward and kissed Dean’s stomach, tasting his skin as he moved up to his chest. He circled Dean’s nipple with his mouth and kissed it before giving it a gentle nip. Dean sucked air in through his teeth when Cas repeated the act on his other side. He worked his way back to the center of his torso, dragging his lip slowly across Dean’s skin. Dean rocked his hips toward Cas. He looked up at Dean and smiled, biting his lower lip subconsciously while watching Dean lick and bite his own. His thumbs found their way into the waistband of Dean’s sweats, ringing around his sides and pulling them down over his ass, scratching against Dean’s skin along the way. Dean raised up and leaned forward, his lips dancing above Cas’s. It was as if Dean’s breath was intoxicating. Cas leaned his head back, lightheaded from the almost touch of Dean’s mouth.

Dean pulled his pants off one leg at a time. He sidled up on Cas, his thighs pressed to Cas’s sides. Looking into his eyes while he rolled his hips forward, Dean rutted against Cas. He moved his head past Cas’s, their scruffy faces raking against one another. He pressed his cheek to Cas’s cheekbone, letting his breath roll across Cas’s ear. It made the effect he was going for, if Cas’s fingers digging into his skin as he gripped his ass was any indication. Cas’s breaths got heavier and his grip on Dean grew tighter, rubbing and squeezing his ass with a desperate hunger. With a bit of pressure, Cas’s palms moved over Dean’s skin, dragging them back down over his round cheeks and the side of his thighs, his nails scraping as he neared his knees. Cas’s hand placed flat against the hollow of Dean’s throat and pushed him back.

“What do you want me to do?”

“ _Fuck_ , Cas. I don’t know, but _this_ feels pretty good to me,” Dean said with another push forward.

Cas caught Dean’s mouth with his, biting his lip and sucking it. Dean returned with a hard kiss, moans passing from his mouth to Cas. Then something was off. He moved too fast, unfamiliar and desperate, words caught in his throat with a whimper. When Dean worked harder in this way, he was trying to distract himself. He wasn’t present.

“Dean,” Cas started, but Dean ignored him, kissing him harder. Cas broke away. “Dean, are you okay?”

Dean pushed his head against the wall and heaved a sigh.

“Something happened.”

“I can’t stop thinking about her,” he said.

“Aosoth? _Now?_ That’s a little weird, Dean.”

Cas was smiling, but Dean didn’t accept his attempt at levity. His jaw flexed. “I didn’t want to kill her.”

Cas’s brow furrowed. “Well, it seemed as if you did it to save us and stop any more people from being killed.”

“I _didn’t_ have to,” he whispered.

“What do you mean?”

“I didn’t _want_ to kill her, Cas. She had this plan for me to help her take hell from Crowley and help rule, and it actually made sense.”

“What?” Cas asked, sitting up higher.

Dean’s head pushed into the wall.  “I actually considered it. Killing her was something that was almost involuntary. I don’t know why I did it. I don’t even think she was wrong. She wanted to put everything back in its place.”

Cas took Dean’s head in his hands, forcing Dean to look at him. “She was wrong, Dean. How many bodies did we chase down in her little game with the other demons? How is replacing Crowley with Abaddon and Lucifer’s daughter any better? Do you actually believe you helping rule hell is the answer?”

Dean didn’t say anything.

“You saw what kind of power she had. And with someone like Chax at her side, what makes you think every encounter with her would have been that civil? You stopped her. It’s true we don’t know what the outcome would have been, but if you had said no, do you really think she would have let you walk away untouched? She was just like Lucifer or Michael. She wanted to use you.”

“But something in me wanted to let her,” Dean admitted.

“You didn’t though. Just like with Michael and Zachariah, you said no. You ended it. What would she do to someone who she didn’t want on her side?”

Dean wiped his face with his hands. “I don’t know. Nothing good.”

“Nothing good. Nothing like you.”

“ _Stop_.” A pain tugged in Dean’s chest. Everything felt wrong. The sinking regret he had for killing Aosoth was still eating him. He knew he wasn’t good. He didn’t kill Aosoth for the safety of his family or keep her from becoming something greater to fear than Lucifer – he killed her because the Mark drove him to, and for no other reason. Cas wouldn’t admit to seeing it. The numbness he felt settled around his head as if he were in a daydream. Nothing seemed real, like when Aosoth stopped the leaves from falling. He was drifting to a bad place.

“You _are_ good, Dean,” Cas said. He brushed his thumb across Dean’s cheek. “You’re a good man. You make hard choices, but most of the time they’re for the right reasons or for the greater good.”

Dean’s face leaned into Cas’s hand. “Cas, I’m not.”

“Why do you not understand this? How many people have to tell you how important you are, how good you are?”

The pain in Dean’s chest tightened. His head was swimming with arguments against Cas’s assertions. “Cas –“

Cas pulled Dean’s face to his and kissed him. Dean melted into the kiss at first then pulled away. He couldn’t get over his disgust with himself to allow a little lustful enjoyment.

“I should just go sleep somewhere else. You shouldn’t even have to look at me.”

Cas held his thighs tight, holding him in place. “Dean, I’ve told you this – there isn’t a thing about you that isn’t worth looking at again and again.”

Dean relaxed, knowing that no matter why he had done what he did, Cas was still going to see him as his and love him unconditionally. He settled back into his spot on Cas’s lap, looking at him in sincere adoration. Dipping his head, he pressed his lips to Cas’s, his hand gliding past his jaw to the back of his head. Through parted lips his tongue licked into Cas’s mouth, the pain in his chest replaced by a flutter of excitement. He smiled, moving back into a slow grind against Cas before launching back into impassioned kisses. Cas’s hands massaged Dean’s ass and he hardened against Dean’s rhythmic movement, heat flushing his face. He couldn’t take it. He fumbled his hand over on the dresser to find the lube, pumping two shots into his hand. He rolled it over his fingers to warm it slightly. Spreading Dean’s ass with one hand, he began slicking Dean’s hole. Dean kissed Cas harder and rolled his hips back, his cock rubbing along Cas’s until he stopped moving to let Cas have easier access. Cas skipped the teasing and went straight to what Dean needed. He pressed a into Dean, moving in ever widening rotations as he fingered Dean’s ass. Dean rested his head in the crook of Cas’s neck, his breath hitching when a second slid in.

Cas slid down the bed until he was flat on his back, taking full advantage of this better angle. When Dean was ready, he raised up on his knees and Cas slicked up his cock. He positioned himself under Dean as he slowly lowered onto him in increments, letting Cas fill him. Cas’s arms reached behind Dean’s shoulders and pulled him down, lifting his hips while pushing up into him. His hands drifted down Dean’s back and over the sides of his thick middle, wandering over his body in adoration until his ass was in his hands, holding him loosely as the two picked up a rhythm.

Dean gently rested his forehead on Cas’s as he rocked up and back, feeling Cas grip him and push up into him. Cas was staring into his eyes with such an amorous look that Dean felt lost for a moment until, as he always could, he grounded himself with a kiss. Full and warm, the movement of Cas’s lips against his was transcendent. He needed this. The hot breath expelled when they broke for air only fuelled Dean, rocking back greedily on Cas’s cock when he wouldn’t push up all the way or as hard as Dean wanted him to.

“Such an amazing example of a man,” Cas said, his breath heavy.

“ _Please_ ,” Dean said quietly in a wispy exhale. He needed to hear these things. He hated it, hated how it made him try to see himself like Cas saw him, but somehow in moments like these – and he didn’t want to admit it – it did something for him.

“You are so beautiful and sexy. So handsome.”

“Cas, please.” Beads of sweat dotted Dean’s forehead and started forming above his upper lip.

“I’ve seen so much beauty in the universe, but nothing is more divine to me than you. Your freckles are like the stars. Nothing is more like staring at the heavens than being with you.”

Dean’s hand wrought through Cas’s hair, gripping it tight, biting his lip as he listened to Cas say these things he didn’t think he deserved.

“You’re so good.” Cas caressed Dean’s face and kissed him deeply. “You’re amazing. You’re everything anyone could ask for.”

“ _Fuck, Cas_ ,” Dean rasped. He was on the edge.

Suddenly Cas’s hand caught on Dean’s throat, wordlessly commanding his attention. Dean leaned into his hand silently asking to be choked, enjoying the nonverbal change in conversation. Cas pushed up with his hand and quickened his thrusts. Dean’s eyes began to flutter. He pushed his throat into Cas’s hand and Cas gave resistance, using his other hand to hold Dean’s hip as he fucked him into submission.

“ _You deserve to come_ ,” Cas said, his voice low and changed.

Dean came as if on command.

 

 

“This has been an interesting week,” Cas said as they crawled back into bed, having cleaned up.

“Horrifying would be the better way of describing it I think,” Dean responded, sliding his arm under the pillow as he settled in, getting comfortable.  

“I can think of a few good parts that might even things out at least slightly.”

Dean heaved a sigh. “Let’s just be thankful it’s over.”

Cas nodded. “And now we can rest. For a moment at least. Surely something will arise. It seems to be what happens.”

Dean pet Cas on the head. In the dark, he wasn’t sure if Cas could see his face, but he was hopeful. But more than anything, he was grateful for Cas being Cas, and Cas being his.

  

* * *

 

Chax kicked around the rubble on the floor of the warehouse.

“He’s strong. Just as stubborn and attached to his brother and the fallen angel as we’ve heard. But the Mark is taking its toll. He’s not in complete control. Given the right circumstances….” Chax trailed off as he stared at the figure with the visage of Aosoth lying cold on the ground.

“Given the right circumstances, I think he would be an excellent leader.” Her voice reverberated in the dark and empty space as she appeared. With a subtle movement of her hand, the body dissipated. “You were right for me to not confront him directly. What a poor end that would have been.”

“What would _be_ the right circumstances?” Chax asked.

“The choice would have to be his. But if the Mark is as strong as I think it is, the circumstances might arise for themselves.” Aosoth’s eyes danced with conniving thoughts.

"Your father would be proud. Your mother on the other hand,” Chax said with a booming laugh, “she would have killed him where he stood, but your father would have been quite impressed.”

“The seed has been planted. And now we watch, and we wait.” She twirled her glowing red strands of hair in her fingers playfully. “Wind him up and watch him go.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Planning and writing the follow up has started. As of right now, I plan on finishing it completely before publishing and have no title for it as of yet. You will not have to have read this to understand it, but it would be helpful, and it likely will be not explicit.  
> Sorry it's taken me so long to get working on it, but life happened.  
> If you want to scream things at me, I'm at [prettymessedupsituation](http://www.prettymessedupsituation.tumblr.com) on tumblr.   
> Thank you for reading.


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